Give All My Secrets Away
by Black-Angel-001
Summary: Picks up after 'Saving Me'; The DeSoto family has gone through many changes, some good, others not.  They came through it with friends and faith intact.  Can they do it again?
1. Chapter 1

**Give All My Secrets Away**

**Black-Angel-001: so this is the repost of 'shooting stars', which will hopefully go better than its predacessor...all the elements from before are still here and...well, you'll see when you read it. when you get to the '..years later part', it still means four years after 'saving me' fyi. here we go!**

**Discalimer: Yet again, third time's the charm. I don't own Emergency or any of it's characters. I am not a firefighter, paramedic, or doctor. I try to research as thoroughly as I can. **

**Give All My Secrets Away**

"_I'd like to make myself believe that planet earth turns slowly, it's hard to say that I'd rather stay awake when I'm asleep 'cause everything is never as it seems._"-Owl City, _'Fireflies'_

_**Los Angelas, 17 Years Ago**_

Roy DeSoto walked out of the rehab clinic and took a deep breath. The air smelled as clean as the city could allow, with no hint of aniseptic, lost hope, and slow rebuilding. The spring sun made the colors brighter, or maybe it was just his own perception after spending roughly two months surrounded by drab colored walls and personnel dressed in white. He took in the sounds that were always muted inside the building, even in the courtyard, and took another breath. He looked at his wrist, delighted to find only a wristwatch there, his father's, and not a medical bracelet. Roy knew he wasn't through yet, that he never really would be as long as he lived, but the worst of it was over and he felt the change.

"Roy."

He smiled at the woman approaching him pushing a baby stroller. Joanne looked beautiful, smiling again. They'd already cleared up alot of the garbage between them during some of Roy's therapy sessions and had an appointment for some more marriage counseling but things were better than they'd been. In the stroller, the baby gurgled and waved his arms, as if he knew what was going on. Roy went down the three steps to meet them, gave Joanne a hug and together they started walking down the sidewalk.

There was a silent apprehension in the air and Roy debated with himself about bringing it up. The decision was taken out of his hands when Joanne spoke.

"Roy, Chris's father, his biological father...well, I called him a few days ago," she said with hesitation.

Roy could feel himself starting to bristle, the reminder that the child in the stroller wasn't his because of a betrayl by his wife still cutting deep. He figured that maybe it always would.

"Did you?" Roy asked it as calmly as possible and was very pleased and surprised when the words came out as if he were talking about the weather.

"Yes. I told him that I-we-didn't want him to contact Chris. At least, not until he's older and not without our permission," Joanne amended.

Roy came to a stop and Joanne paused too. He looked at her seriously for a minute. "Is that what you want?"

She nodded. "That's what's best. Roy-"

Somehow, he knew what she was going to tell him. He knew as surely as he knew that the sky was blue what the next words out of her mouth would be and he shook his head to stop them. "No, Joanne. Until there's no other choice, until we decide if or when Chris should meet him, I don't want to know his name. I don't want to know anything about him besides the medical history."

There was a long moment of silence where she studied his face, looked into his eyes, took in the way his expression was set before she slowly nodded.

They continued walking down the sidewalk and it was never brought up again.

**_17 Years Later_**

Four year old Roy Matthew DeSoto Jr., or RJ when he wasn't in trouble, paused in his play on the living room floor to listen intently to the sounds outside. His twin sister, Carrie Anne, huffed at him when he did it. It had been the twelth time at least (it was actually the fourth time) that he'd stopped playing horses with her to just sit there doing nothing. Finally fed up with her siblings lack of atttention and dedication to the game she just took the brown and white spotted pony from his hand and set about playing horses and cowboys by herself. Her Uncle Johnny had gotten her the horse set, complete with little blankets and saddles to go with the adult horses (because the baby horses weren't old enough yet he said) for her last birthday and her daddy had built real wooden stables for them to live in. The Barbies her mommy had gotten her rode the horses, or at least tried to; they didn't sit on them very well. While she galloped her horses around and got them to eat carpet grass, RJ went over to the couch by the living room window and climbed up it. He pushed the curtain to the window out of the way and peered outside, looking as far as he could in both directions before letting the curtain fall back in place and turning to sit on the couch with a little sigh.

His daddy came in from outside through the kitchen, wiping his forehead and taking off gloves. He watched with mild interest while daddy moved out of the line of sight and then came in the living room with a glass of water. He didn't sit in the chair or on the sofa, because it was against the rules to sit on the furniture when you've been playing and getting dirty outside until you got a bath, but he looked at Carrie playing then at RJ sitting and took a drink. RJ got up to look out the window again, didn't see anything different from before and sat down again, with another sigh. His daddy watched him but didn't say anything.

"Daddy, when is the Chris and the Jenny coming home," he asked, thoroughly unhappy with the lack of his older siblings apperance.

Roy nodded to the clock on the wall. "When the big hand is on the six, RJ."

RJ studied the clock intently. He could count to ten, because the Chris had taught him how, just like he could say his ABC's because the Jenny had taught him that. He looked at where the big hand was and tried to figure out how many it was before the big hand would be on the six, but he couldn't come up with it. RJ kicked his feet a little, bounced in his seat, and wiggled around.

"How many is that, Daddy? Until the big hand is on the six?"

"Well, it's on the four right now so." Roy held up one hand in a fist. "From four it's five," he held up a finger. "And then six." A second finger. "Now RJ, you tell me how many this is."

Carefully RJ counted the number of fingers. "Two!"

"Right. So it's two counts until the big hand is on the six." Roy didn't try to explain that in terms of time it meant ten minutes; the only concept children had of time was when they were waiting or in time out and anyway RJ wouldn't have cared even if he had. All he cared about was that in two counts his big brother and big sister would be home.

RJ tried to watch the clock, he really did, but he just couldn't stand to sit still to watch it. Besides, Carrie was playing rodeo and he wanted to get his cow and wild animal set to play too. He got the set and flowed seamlessly into the game, Carrie knowing exactly what his intention was in this case. There wasn't a pause or ackward moment where they had to stop and figure out what they were doing; they just did and it worked out.

Roy watched his twin children with a fond smile. They were babbling to each other in their 'twin speak', something he'd never understood and probably never would. Between twin four year olds and two teenagers, the house was pretty hectic.

The front door swung open and Jenny came in, looking a little mad and muttering under her breath. Roy sighed and his smile twitched. Speaking of teenagers. In the space of a few minutes, no one else openened the door and came through, trailing after Jenny and looking just as mad, or maybe a little gleeful. Maybe both.

"Jenny, where's Chris," he asked his fifeteen year old daughter as she came from her room and headed for the kitchen.

She stopped and rolled her eyes. "His imperial royal uppity-ness is on the front porch. He said he'll come in when he's good and ready and nothing you could do or say would make him do anything else." Jenny held up both hands before Roy could say anything to that. "His phrasing, not mine." She went on into the kitchen.

RJ and Carrie left their game and went off into the kitchen after her, little voices calling, "The Jenny wants to play? The Jenny wants to play?" as they rushed in as fast as they dared.

Roy cut his eyes from their retreating backs to the door. He and Chris had been at odds with each other from the moment Chris had turned thirteen and found out that his biological father wasn't Roy. It seemed that everything was a battle with his son, from curfew to when he could go out with friends and where. Between all of that, there was the girl trouble, the trouble with school and grades, peer pressure, making friends, breaking up with friends, all the things teenagers go through. Chris also had the fact that he would be graduating from high school next year to deal with, something that had him worrying about his future and what he would do on top of everything else. Roy could understand how all of it would pile up and pile up until you either broke under the pressure or flung it off of yourself. Since Chris wasn't the type to crack under the weight he fought back hard against whatever he saw as an obsitcale.

But even though most of his son's problems would come and go with no real issue, Roy knew that most of Chris's attitude was from the paternity problem and how they were dealing with it. Or not dealing with it, as the case may be.

Roy gave Chris a few more minutes out there before going out himself and leaning against one of the posts on the porch. Chris was sitting on the steps just like Jenny had said, and was staring out at the yard. Roy took a sip of water and shifted a little.

"I'm not ready to come in yet," Chris said without looking at him.

"That's fine, as long as you do eventually," Roy responded.

"What if I decided not to? What if I decided to go and stay somewhere else? What would you do then?" The challenge was clear. Roy looked down at the top of his son's head.

"Is that what you decided?"

"You can't answer a question with a question," the seventeen year old shot back.

Roy sighed. "I'd ask where you were going, who you would stay with, and if you'd still go to school. I'd ask if you'd come back to see your brother and sisters and parents. Do I need to ask those questions?"

Chris sighed and dropped his head. "No."

"Son-"

Chris stood abrubtly from the steps, grabbing his backpack by the straps before turning to look at Roy with a stormy expression. "I'm gonna do my homework now."

Roy stood there after Chris went in, just staring at the fading colors and approaching night before he too went inside.

**Black-Angel-001: i tried different approaches and this is what came out the best...it also made more sense. leave me a review to tell me what you think please!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Give All My Secrets Away**

"_It can't be possible that rain can fall only when it's over right here. The sun is shinging every day but it's far away over the world they say._" -One Republic, _'All the Right Moves'_

That night, after dinner was eaten, dishes washed, and kids put to bed, Roy sat on the edge of his own bed. He stared down at his hands hanging between his kness, half listening to Karen moving around the room getting ready for bed. Roy felt the bed dip down a little as she got in it and glanced over his shoulder at her for a brief minute when she put a hand on his shoulder.

"Roy, what's wrong," she asked quietly. Her husband had been quiet and full of his own thoughts after he and Chris had come inside earlier. She could guess what was bothering him, thanks to the cotemplative looks he kept giving Chris every so often. Karen wanted him to be able to talk to her without her guessing what it was though.

"This thing with Chris and..." He trailed off. Karen shifted closer until she was beside him.

"And Pete Jennings," she finished. "There's more to it, isn't there?"

"I'm loosing him, Karen," Roy finally said, voice full of sadness. "I'm loosing Chris to a man I'm really starting to hate."

"Roy-"

"I don't know what to do. If I let Chris meet him and he wants to stay with the man, what then? Let it happen? If Chris wants to go on with his life without us in it, do I respect that or fight it?"

"Chris won't live the rest of his life without his family, Roy. He cares too much, loves us too much, for that to happen. And if Chris does want to stay with Pete, well, the best thing would be to support him like you always have."

Roy sat silently for a minute, thinking about that. He didn't know for sure if he could support that, if he could try and not say anything to presuade Chris not to stay with Pete Jennings, or get to know him in any capacity.

"Karen," he said hesitantly, a thought he'd had many times over the last year coming to the forefront again. "I think Jennings wants something from Chris."

"Well he wants to get to know his son."

"No," Roy shook his head softly. "No, not that. His letters and calls have been more pushy about Chris meeting him in person, when a few years ago he never even brought the subject up or dodged it when Chris said something about it. I think he needs something from Chris and that's the only reason why he's staying in contact with him."

Karen rubbed small soothing circles on Roy's back while she thought about that. Her husband's instincts were usually right on the money and had saved his life and other's lives more than once. Even so...

"Are you sure you're not seeing something you want to see," she asked quietly, palying Devil's advocate. Roy turned his head to look at her with a frown before looking back at his clasped hands.

He heaved a sigh. "I don't know. Just, how do I get my son back?" He put both hands to his forehead and rubbed his temples.

Karen shifted so her arms were wrapped around his shoulders. "Try treating not getting defensive or offensive about Pete Jennings and Chris communicating. Be respectful of Chris's right to privacy and don't push when he doesn't want you to. Show him that he can talk to you about it without expecting a put down in someway."

"Have I been doing the opposite of all that?" Roy feared that was the case.

"Just a little," Karen said after pressing a kiss to his shoulder. Roy twisted around in her arms and kissed her more soundly.

"I love you, you know that?"

She smiled. "Without a doubt. Now show it to your son."

It was a lot harder than he'd thought it would be.

Roy had been so defensive about the paternity subject for so long it took him a little more time to be anything else. If Chris got a letter from Jennings, Roy would calmly hand it to him and leave him to read it. When Chris emerged from his room after reading said letter, Roy would ask how things were. Chris was suspicious, of course, after all the battles over the subject. He warily answered Roy's generic, calm questions, and never supplied much in the way of detail. Roy didn't expect a quick fix, but he hadn't really expected the extreme slowness, either. At the rate they were going, he was going to be at least ninety before it got better. Or, even worse, it would all come to a head in the form of one big fight.

Would you believe that that big fight all started from a box of cereal?

The fire department didn't have any openings for an engineer at any of the stations, so Roy worked as a lineman and took paramedic shifts when no one else was able. It was still the same rate of pay, but the overtime as a paramedic helped too, especially with six people eating in the house. Roy was putting groceries away when Chris came in from playing football outside with some neighborhood kids and went through the fridge and pantry looking for some lunch. That was when he saw the cereal.

Maybe it was the heat. Maybe it was a broken heart over a girl. Maybe his team had been loosing. Maybe he'd had enough of his dad's attitude about Pete Jennings. Whatever it was, that box sitting innocently on the shelf was the last straw.

"I hate frosted flakes," he grumbled, slamming the pantry door shut. The tone was just right to get his father's attention and if that hadn't been enough, slamming the door would do it.

Roy looked over at Chris while he put frozen peas in the freezer. "I'm sorry about that Chris, but I couldn't get two different kinds this time around; and you slam that door again you can just go to your room and cool down for about an hour or so."

The fact that his dad wasn't getting as angry as Chris already was made him madder. "Then why didn't you get the kind that I like? What, just because I'm not your son what I like doesn't count?"

There. Let's see what he'd do with that!

It took every bit of control Roy had to gently close the freezer door before he turned around to face Chris. The kid was standing there arms crossed over his chest, looking angry and smug and every bit of defiant he could manage. Roy could feel his blood pressure go up.

"Don't go there, Chris," he warned quietly. Roy could take a lot, but taunting like that made for a very short fuze.

"Why not? It's true, isn't it, that you aren't my real father?" Chris stepped closer, arms dropping to hang by his sides and fists curled. His mouth went on auto pilot and his brain frantically tried to play catch up with the words. "What's the matter, huh, _dad_," the word was said with a little loathing. "Can't take it? What're you gonna do about it? Hit the bottle again like you did before?"

As soon as the words flew out of his mouth, Chris knew he'd stepped over a line he never should have been near to begin with.

Roy's eyes got huge and his mouth fell open a little, his face going ashen. He took a step back, reaching behind him with both hands to grip a chair. He closed his eyes, partly against the onslaught of memories and emotions, and partly so if he didn't look at Chris he wouldn't end up stranggeling the kid. His lips were drawn tight and he breathed sharply through his nose. Damn. Just..._damn_.

Chris licked his lips. "I-"

"Go to your room." The words were tight, the tone clipped. Roy ran a shaky hand over his face. "Chris, just go to your room."

"But, I-"

"Please." It was a shaky breath of sound.

Without a word, Chris turned and went quietly to his room. But not before he could hear a few sobbing breaths from the kitchen.

**Black-Angel001: i know in the last two stories roy was sensitive to his kids and their emotions and wants and needs. well i've found that as children get older, their wants, emotions, and needs tend to change. when they become teenagers, it's even worse; you don't really know how to approach them anymore (i think some of you parents out there might agree with that) and let's face it, roy's never really had to deal with this situation in ANY capacity before. he's at a bit of a loss. so if roy doesn't seem sensitive and caring, you tell me how you're supposed to deal with your teenage son and his biological father and the issues that causes! (sorry, had a friend read this and she got on my case about that heh heh ^.^; )**


	3. Chapter 3

**Give All My Secrets Away**

**Black-Angel-001: i'm sorry for the little tirade last chapter...rough and honest reviews are fine but only in a respectable manner. again, sorry and i'm glad you guys have such a good response to this.**

**Give All My Secrets Away**

"_I'm sorry for the times I would neglect, I'm sorry for the times I'd disrespect, I'm sorry for the wrong things that I've done..._"-Akon, _'Sorry, Blame it All on Me'_

The week passed for Roy and Chris in tense silence. Chris spoke quietly to Roy when he had to and Roy did the same. The teen found it hard to apologize, justifying his words and actions in feeble attempts to console his guilty consiounce. It didn't work well. By the end of the week he had offered a tentative 'I'm sorry' and had recieved an 'It's okay' back. The tension lifted a little. Slowly, ever so slowly and carefully, Chris told his dad more about the letters and calls from Pete Jennings. Pete worked and lived in Palo Alto as a real estate agent, was married to a proffesser at Stanford University, and had one fourteen year old son. Roy listened with the same attentiveness he always had when Chris talked about something, made a few bland comments and that would be it. But just as slowly and carefully, Roy would ask questions and draw the conversations out. What did his wife teach? Did his half brother play football too? Did Pete like camping too?

The ground the pair reached was still shaky and unsteady, like the fault line running through California. Sometimes Roy got on the offensive about Pete, sometimes Chris tried to see how far he could push his dad's buttons. But there was a kind of truce and peace that reigned in the DeSoto house for the moment.

About two weeks after the fight, Roy was sitting in front of the television, intently watching the news. More importantly, watching the weather report. Summer in California was dry and hot and windy; prime condition for wildfires. The kids were quietly playing in the living room, knowing better than to get too loud. The newscast went on commercial and Roy leaned back in his chair, considering the conditions. There was no way to ever be sure of a fire starting, but it was always a very real possibility.

"Hey dad, can I ask you something," Chris said as he came up beside the armchair.

Roy turned to look up at his son and motioned for him to sit at the other chair next to him with a wave of the arm. "Sure. What's going on?"

Chris sat, arms on his knees and leaning forward. "Me and some guys from school were thinking about a camping trip this weekend. What'dya think?"

"I'd really rather you didn't," Roy said.

"You didn't even think about it," protested Chris. "Why not?"

At that moment the news came back on with the weathe report. Both of them llistened to the meterologist predicting more dry weather with low humidity and a good chance of it getting worse. No rain was in the forecast for the foreseeable future. Immediatly after that, a news anchor came on and talked about the threat of fires and the no-burn ban on the entire state of California.

Roy pointed to the screen. "That's why. Chances of a fire starting are good, especially now."

"But it's always like this during the summer! If that's the reason why, then that means we can't camp at all this summer," fumed Chris.

"Not necessarily," said Roy as he shook his head. "There are times when the humidity goes up. If that happens, then I just might let you, if an adult was going as well. That doesn't mean I don't think you're grown up enough to take care of yourself," he said over more protests, "it just means that it would be better all the way around for everyone."

"So I can't go this weekend." It wasn't much of a question.

Roy sighed. "No, not this weekend."

Chris leaned back and thought about it. "What about a hike?"

"What?"

"A hike. A one day, there and back, hike. Could we do that?"

Roy thought about it. He still didn't like it. What if a fire did start and they got trapped in there? The same could be asked about his job, he accepted. He looked at Chris, waiting expactently for his answer. His son thought he would say no and in all honesty it was on the tip of his tounge to do so. The longer he sat there without saying anything, the more agitated Chris got before finally he made to stand up.

"You know what, forget it. I should've known better than to ask now," he mumbled.

"What trail," Roy asked, stopping Chris mid-rise. Blinking, his son sat back down.

"Um, I wasn't sure yet, wanted to get input from the guys." He peered at Roy suspicously. "Are you seriously gonna approve this."

Roy nodded. "My biggest concern on camping was you guys starting a fire and it getting out of control. Or someone else starting one and you stuck in it. Of course, it could still happen when you're hiking but in this case you wouldn't really be too far in."

"Really? You're gonna say it's okay?" Chris still wasn't sure about that part.

Roy chuckled. "Yes, Chris, I am. All I'm asking is that you follow Uncle Johnny's advice about safefy and take all the supplies you'll need with you."

"Wow, thanks. What if the other guys don't go with this? They were pretty set on camping."

"We'll figure something else out," Roy said with a shrug. "You and me could go, the entire family, you and Johnny."

Chris smiled. "Thanks again, dad. Can I call the guys, let 'em know?"

"Don't be too long, dinner's nearly ready," he called after the teen as Chris went to the den to use the phone there.

Looking back on the encounter, Roy was completely satisfied and happy with it and it's outcome.


	4. Chapter 4

**Give All My Secrets Away**

**Black-Angel-001: I had to split this chapter into two separate ones, cause originally it was too long. No, I m not gonna post the other one right away; you ll have to wait the alloted time (in case you haven t noticed, it s about every two weeks I update)**

**Give All My Secrets Away**

"_Tell me what you want you want to hear, something that'll like those ears_." -One Republic, _'Secrets'_

According to the schedule the boys had written out, they were supposed to be at the ranger station at the bottom of the trail around six, maybe a few minutes late. However, the kids ended up coming down early, at three. The ranger had called each parent, telling them to meet their children at the hospital instead of the station.

Roy had always dreaded a call like that, and his heart nearly stopped before the rest of the ranger's words sank in. One of the five kids, Matthew, had suffered from heat exhaustion on the trail, but the others were fine, just concerned about their friend.

"Actually, I was pretty impressed with your son," the ranger admitted. "He sent two of them back to the station, kept the other boy with him calm, and administered the proper first aide to Matthew until the paramedics got there. He kept his cool and prevented the situation from getting any worse. Not many kids that age can do that, or would know what to do. You should be very proud of him."

The ranger could hear the pride in Roy's voice when he replied, "I really am."

Jenny stayed home to watch the twins while he went to the hospital to pick up Chris and see how Matt was doing. Karen was on shift at the lab that night, and he called to let her know what was going on before he left. She told him she'd see him in the waiting room when he got there. Finally, Roy was walking into the ER waiting room.

He spotted the other kids quick enough, all huddled together and looking kinda scared. Chris was the next one he saw, talking to Dixie and Matt's parents. Matt's dad was shaking his hand vigorously, and his mother hugged him while Dixie looked on with a proud expression. Karen was coming down the hallway when he came up to his son.

"Chris, are you okay," he asked because he had to be sure.

"Yeah, Dad, I'm fine." Chris smiled at him. Roy put a hand on his shoulder and looked at Matt's parents.

"How is he?"

"He's going to be fine, just fine. He'll have to stay overnight," replied Mrs. Daniels as she smiled despite the tears in her eyes.

"Nurse McCall was just telling us that if Chris here hadn't done what he did then Matt could've...well, you know." Mr. Daniels looked uncomfortable just thinking about it. Roy couldn't blame him.

Roy squeezed Chris's shoulder and smiled at him. "I'm glad Chris was able to help, and that Matt will be alright." He turned back to the Daniels. "Do you need anything?"

"No, thank you. You've done more than enough." Mrs. Daniels hugged Chris again, thanking him quietly. Then they turned and walked to the treatment room where Matt was and disappeared behind the door.

"Well, looks like we've got the makings of a very good paramedic Roy," Dixie said with a smile.

"He'd be one of the best," Karen said proudly.

Roy's smile got wider and his chest puffed out a little. He knew how good Chris could be; his son had easily absorbed every bit of information Roy had given him and then some. If Chris went through the paramedic program, he could be one of the best, like Karen said.

"Actually," Chris said, head down and feet shuffling a little. He seemed embaressed and unsure. "Actually, I want to be a ranger. You know, at a park."

Dixie tipped her head to him. "You'd be good at that too. I heard from the paramedics that the ranger said you handle yourself very well outdoors." Her name was paged. "I'll talk to you later," she said and with a wave amid all their goodbyes she walked into another treatment room.

Hesitantly, Chris looked at his dad through his bangs. "Is that alright? Me being a park ranger?"

Roy blinked in surprise and shared a look with Karen. Why in the world was Chris asking that?

"Chris, of course it is. Dix is right, you'd be great at that. I've seen you when we're camping or on the trails; you love it out there. Why would you think that..?"

Chris shrugged. "I dunno, it just seemed like you always wanted me to be a firefighter is all, like you and Uncle Johnny."

"Listen to me, Chris. Look at me." Chris looked him in the eye. "Yes I'd be happy as a clam if you went into firefighting, and I'd be happy if you became a paramedic. I'd also be happy as a clam if you decided to sell cars or manage a bank. Whatever it is you want to do, legally, I'd be incredibly happy and proud of you. So if you want to be a park ranger, and that's what you're sure of, you can bet I'm gonna brag about it to everyone." He grinned.

"That's right," Karen said in complete agreement. "We love you and want what's best for you. When you're ready to presue this, you just let us know and we'll do everything we can to help."

Chris grinned at both of them, eyes lighting up with the emotion. "You know, you guys are getting sappy in your old age."

While Karen raised an eyebrow Roy chuckled, put an arm around Chris's shoulder, and pulled his son close. In a stage whispher he said, "Piece of friendly man to man advice Chris: never tell a woman she's old."

The family was laughing when they walked to the door.

Roy and Chris were still joking and enjoying each other's company on the car ride back from the hospital. Chris had told Roy the entire story, how he'd noticed the symptoms his dad had taught him, and done exactly what needed to be done. He admitted that he'd been a little freaked out and scared at being in charge of the situation, and doubted his ability for a minute. But then he'd just done what he had to and that was all there was to it. Roy in turn told him about the first time he'd treated someone, both in combat and then in the fire department.

"There's always a minute where you think, 'What if I screw up? What if I get it wrong?' or where you wait to see if someone will magicaly appear who can handle it," he said while Chris listened intently. "But when you realize that you're it, that until someone else really does come, you're all that person has, you stop thinking like that and move without really knowing it. That applies to more than just medical emergencies, Chris. It applies to real life too, when you're dealing with people who aren't hurt and problems you're having. Eventually you stop thinking someone else is going to solve the issues and you just do it."

Chris thought about that, turned it over in his head. "So, what you're saying is, we all end up going at it alone?"

Roy shook his head, stopped at a stop sign, and after looking both ways continued forward. "No. I'm saying that we as individuals have to decide that we ourselves are going to solve the problems we have and we take help, wether it's a shoulder to cry on or an ear to listen. If we can't do that, we're in denial and it can ruin more than the original problem could have."

"Like when you and Uncle Johnny went to rehab?"

Roy hesitated and then nodded. "Yeah, exactly like that. If we, or any other recovering addict, hadn't decided to get help ourselves we'd probably be dead by now." He glanced over at Chris for a second then focused on the road. "Like how you need to decide for yourself how to handle the issue of your paternity and Pete Jennings."

Chris turned his head sharply to look at his father. Roy kept staring straight ahead, knowing Chris was studying him but he kept his mouth shut. After a minute, Chris faced forward again, a thoughtful look on his face. Roy could only hope his words helped somehow.

There was a strange car in the driveway when they pulled up, and an equally strange man sitting on the porch. With a frown, Roy put the car in park and undid his seatbelt, all instincts on alert. He and Chris both got out of the car, but Roy made sure he was between his son and the man at all times. Their uninvited and impromptu guest stood with a smile when they got closer. Even though the sun was starting to go down, Roy could still make out his face and features. He had an angular face and a sharp, straight nose. His hair was dark brown with enough curl to rival Chet Kelly, and light brown eyes. He was a few inches shorter than Roy, looked fairly small actually. His suit was crisp and pressed, with only a slight wrinkle to it. He held out his hand to Roy and Roy noticed how smooth that hand was.

He didn't like him right off the bat.

"Hello, you must be Roy DeSoto?" Roy hesitantly shook the man's hand. "I hope you'll forgive me for showing up out of the blue like this, but I couldn't think of any other way to get in touch with you."

The man's voice was pleasent and his words were quick, like he was used to haggling with people. Roy's dislike went up another notch.

"I'm sorry, you are?" He let the question hang while Chris shuffled around behind him. He couldn't get into the house because the man was blocking the door.

"I'm so sorry, where are my manners?" The smile grew a little. "I'm Pete Jennings."

Just like that, Roy's dislike skyrocketed into hate.

**Black-Angel-001: see you in two weeks ya'll! in the meantime, since i'm all caught up, time for some mardi gras parades! let the good times roll!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Give All My Secrets Away**

**Black-Angel-001: and here's where we left off! and honestly, i've never had anyone instantly dislike a character like some of you have with jennings haha**

**Give All My Secrets Away**

"_You sound so innocent, all full of good intent, swear you know best. But you expect me to jump up on board with you and ride off into your delusional sunset_."-Sara Bareilles, _'King of Anything'_

It played over in his head.

Pete Jennings.

"Oh." It was all he could think to say. He let go of Jennings' hand and stuffed both of his in his pockets; for the first time in a really, really long time, Roy had the intense urge to punch this man in the nose. It wasn't a fair reaction, it wasn't even right, and Roy knew it, he really did, but...

But the man had more of an annoying personality than Craig Brice!

Behind him, Chris pushed around him and stared wide eyed and open mouthed at Pete Jennings. "You're...?"

Pete smiled widely at Chris, eyes shining (personally Roy thought it was fake) and held out a hand. "And you're Chris," he said it quietly, reverantly, and Roy resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Hello...son."

It took every bit of self control and restraint Roy had to keep his balled up fists in his pockets. Chris frowned and stepped a little closer to Roy.

"It's Chris," he said and Roy cheered inside. _Take that you son of a-!_

Pete shook himself slightly but kept that annoyingly bright smile. "Of course. I'm sorry. You...you look just like Joanne. I was hoping you'd look like me but..." He cut his eyes sideways to Roy. "I guess that was for the best."

Okay, a few seconds before had been nothing. Now Roy really knew what it meant to hang on by your teeth to something.

"Yeah," Chris said noncomittedly. "Why are you here?"

Thank God Chris could ask that, because Roy sure couldn't; he was gritting his teeth too hard to do it.

"Well, I wanted to meet you, get to know you," Pete said. "I know I should have called ahead, but I wasn't sure you'd want to."

"I told you I'd let you know when I was ready." Chris sounded annoyed. Roy felt like a heel for it, but he was happy to hear that tone.

"I know, I know, and I'm sorry, so-Chris. Really, I am. But I just couldn't wait."

Roy thought that maybe it would be better if he went inside, leave the two some privacy. But he stayed firmly where he was, feet planted and unmoving because Chris was clinging to him like he hadn't since he was five and got scared at the carnival with all the people around, or when he was nine and they were burying Joanne. As long as Chris was doing that, Roy would stay right there and Pete Jennings could go to hell if he thought otherwise.

"I, uh, was hoping we could get together, maybe Monday? We could go to the park, or have lunch," Jennings tried.

Chris frowned again. "Maybe. Look, I'm really tired. It was a heck of a day and I need to put my gear away so..."

Pete perked up. "You went camping?"

"Hiking."

"Maybe we could do that. There are some great places to hike in Palo Alto and I would love to show you-"

"Wait a minute," Roy interrupted, no longer able to keep silent at that. "You mean to take Chris out of the county?"

Pete blinked at him as if he'd just remembered he was there. "Well, sure. I mean, my wife and his half brother want to get to know him too. I thought that would be the best way for them to meet."

"And were you planning to take him to Palo Alto on Monday for a stroll in the park or lunch?" There was a hard edge to Roy's voice that Jennings didn't miss; he narrowed his eyes a little.

"And if I was?" It was a challenge and Roy's blood began to boil. "I am his father, after all."

Roy saw red and took a deep breath, then another. The man was deliberatly trying to provoke him. For his part, Chris stood staring back and forth between the two men, afraid that a fight was about to start.

"I think you two should wait on that for a while. At least until Chris gets to know you," Roy said tightly.

"I think we've gotten to know each other pretty well, from the letters and phone calls."

"Chris gets the final say," Roy said, "and that's what you'll have to wait for. Chris, go on in and put your things away. I'll be in to start dinner in a minute."

Still staring at both men, Chris slowly nodded and headed for the door, but Pete was still blocking it.

"I'm glad I finally met you in person Chris. I just know you and I will become close." He pulled Chris in for a quick hug which Chris didn't return before finally moving out of the way. Both men watched him go in and the door close. Roy glared at the man and stepped closer.

"Listen Jennings, I can't stop Chris from communicating with you if he wants to, and I can't stop him from spending time with you if he wants," Roy said quietly and fiercly. "But if you ever just show up like this again, I will call the police and make sure they escort you off my property. You call before you come over, understand me?"

Pete studied DeSoto's face and eyes. The man was furious, that much was obvious. However, he wasn't really afraid; he thought DeSoto was all talk and no walk. He gave Roy a condesending smile.

"Alright. But I'm sure Chris will want to spend more time with me, and I'm sure that he'll want to come to Palo Alto. It's just a matter of time."

With that, he stepped around Roy, went down the steps, paused long enough to give Roy a jaunty and sarcastic salute, and got in his car and drove away. Roy stayed on the steps a few minutes more, breathing deeply and clearing his head. He prevented himself from thinking about Jennings, because that would get him angry all over again, but he did think about his reactions and felt a bit sorry about it. He'd been trying to give Chris support and understanding about his bilogical father, to not get overly angry or upset about the man. Had he just blown all that hard won trust out of the water?

With a sigh, Roy went inside.

Jenny was in the living room with the twins, reading while they played. She looked up as he came in and he hugged the twins when they came running over to him.

"Where's Chris," he asked tiredly, feeling too old.

"His room," she said, studying him in a way that reminded Roy of her mother. He gave her a smile and kissed her head before going down the hallway to Chris's room.

He knocked softly, waited a minute, then quietly and carefully opened the door and stepped inside, shutting it just as quietly and carefully behind him. Chris was laying on his bed, arms behind his head and eyes on the ceiling. He glanced at Roy briefly then looked back at the ceiling. Roy sighed again and took a single step closer.

"Can I come in?"

"You already are," replied Chris with a shrug.

Roy sat on the edge of the bed, looked at his son, then at his hands. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

Chris slowly turned his head to look at him.

"I was angry and I'm sure it showed. I got annoyed and I'm sure that showed too. I'm sorry for that, and butting in when he talked about taking you to Palo Alto." He met Chris's eye. "I'm not sorry I got angry or annoyed, just to clarify. Mr. Jennings had no right to show up the way he did and my getting annoyed and angry over it is not something I'll excuse myself for. I'm sorry it showed."

Just as slowly as he turned his head, Chris slowly sat up, propped up on his elbows. "Dad, you don't need to apologize." He moved so he was sitting cross legged next to Roy, still looking at him. "I get why you were upset like that. I was too, when I realized who he was. He should have respected my decision to arrange a meeting, not showed up suddenly when Jenny and the twins were home alone."

That was another thing Roy didn't want to let himself think about. Jenny could take care of herself and her younger siblings, but the risk was too huge. Next time, someone would be with them, he swore to himself.

"And honestly, I'm glad you said something about me going to Palo Alto with him. I know he was trying to get you to loose control when he said what he did about him being my father, and I know how hard it was to keep from loosing it. It was probably even harder to tell him he had to wait for me to make the final call on that, huh?"

Roy smiled tightly. "Yeah, not my first choice of words," he admitted.

"But you said them. You said them and meant them and that means a whole lot. It reminded me about what you said earlier in the car, about how we have to make decisions for our problems ourselves. It also made me realize that we need to be given the chance to make that choice."

Roy stared at him a moment then gave a genuine smile for the first time it felt in ages, then ruffled Chris's hair. "Would you hate me if I said I thank God everyday you ended up with your mother brains instead of Pete Jennings'?"

Chris laughed and ducked away palyfully. "No, I wouldn't." He leaned on his dad and smiled when his dad put an arm around him in a hug.

"Love you dad," he said quietly.

"Love you too, son," Roy said just as quietly.

"He did that? He actually did that? No way!"

Roy nodded and Johnny made a few more comments, mainly about the intelligence (or lack thereof) of Pete Jennings.

"And then he wanted to take Chris out of the county? Does he want to get arrested for kidnapping or something?"

The friends were having lunch together in one of their favorite old hangouts from when they worked together and actually had time to really eat lunch, or dinner as the case called for it. Just like those old times, Johnny had opted for a hamburger and Roy a ham sandwhich, both with a side of fries and coffee. Around them, the citizens of Los Angelas milled around, going from one place to another, minding their own business and focused on their own lives; no one payed the two men any attention, except the waitress who refilled their coffee cups and blushed prettily at Johnny's smile and soft 'Thanks.'

Roy shook his head as the young woman walked away quickly, red along her cheekbones. "Doesn't Alicia get upset when you flirt with other women?"

Johnny looked offended. "Roy, I do not flirt with other women. I can't help it if they react that way to something as simple as a smile," he protested.

Alicia had been Johnny's girlfriend for about three years and Roy thought it would be permanent soon. Alicia was from the bayous of Louisiana, with a French-Creole heritage and temper to match. She kept Johnny on his toes and in line and was probably the only woman Johnny could put up with that from. She was a nurse at Mercy Medical Hospital and reminded Roy of Dixie sometimes with her no nonsense attitude. She got along with everyone Johnny worked with in arson investigation, as well as his old friends from firefighting. She and Karen especially got on like old buddies, which was the only thing that worried Roy. Between the two of them, they could come up with some scary stuff to pull off. Roy knew though, that Johnny wouldn't do anything to deliberatly hurt Alicia like that and that Alicia would kick Johnny's butt if he did.

Roy chuckled at Johnny's statement, relieved to know that some things about Johnny hadn't changed. His young friend had changed, it happened with age of course, some for the better, some for the wost. Being an arson investigator led Johnny to a world of human nature he hadn't really experienced. Sure he knew that other people could and did delieberatly hurt one another for no real good reason, but when someone deliberatly set fire to a home, destroying everything, even lives? It was harder to swallow at times. But, Johnny took the bad with the good like he always had.

"What are you going to do about Jennings?"

Roy shrugged and took a bite of his sandwhich. "What can I do? Besides setting curfew, time limits, and off limit areas, Chris is the one who gets the final say."

"If you think something is fishy, Roy, you should follow your gut. God knows it saved us plenty of times."

"I know that, but again, what can I do? Unless Jennings does something that puts Chris or anyone else in my family in danger I can't forbid the man from contacting Chris."

Johnny took a gulp of coffee, long familiar with the burn of it going down his throat. "If you need help dealing with this guy, just give me and the guys a call; you know we'll be over quick to help you bury a body if we have to."

"Yeah, I know," Roy said smiling.

The guys they'd worked with at 51 were scattered at different stations. Only Chet and Marco were working together, and Roy had pulled shifts with all of them at one time or another on overtime. He did get to work with Stanley at 18's, and it was nice. They all missed working together every shift though, and tried to compensate by getting together whenever they could.

The friends moved on to other subjects while they finished out their meal.

Karen's reaction to what had happened with Jennings was about the same as Johnny's. Her mother's instinct had gone into a quick panic of 'what if' over her children, and then a 'what if' scenario of her husband actually punching the man.

"Roy, do you really think he'll listen to what you told him," she asked worridly as they prepared dinner.

"I don't know. Maybe at first, but I think he'll eventually get tired of waiting and try again."

"I don't like that he knew where we lived. He could show up any time now."

Roy knew and understood her concern. "All he had to do was get an LA County phonebook and look up Roy DeSoto, then narrow it down. Plus, he's in real estate so he probably could have tracked us down through the house records. There isn't much we can do about it, Karen, much as I hate it."

She nodded, a look of worried concern still on her face. Roy went over to her, pulled her away from the stove, turned down the heat on it, and pulled her in his arms. He kissed the lines of worry on her forehead, the crease of concern between her eyebrow, her scrunched up nose, her cheeks and then her lips. He made the kiss slow and lingering, pulling back after a few minutes. Wordlessly, she snuggled into his chest and Roy hugged her tight, both of them with their own thoughts about what could happen.


	6. Chapter 6

**Give All My Secrets Away**

**Black-Angel-001: i know even less about palo alto than i do about la (i know it's the home of stanford university, but that's it) so forgive me if anything's not right.**

**Give All My Secrets Away**

_"I'm at war with the world cause I ain't never gonna sell my soul. I've already made up my mind, no matter what I can't be bought or sold!" _-Skillet, _'Awake and Alive'_

Pete Jennings opened the door to his house with a sigh and a hand through his hair. He put the keys on the hallway table, shrugged out of his jacket and pulled at his tie. The swinging door that lead to the kitchen opened and his wife stepped through, looking hopeful. Pete thought absently that she'd been wearing that look for a long time it seemed.

"Have you talked to him about it yet," she asked. She knew Pete sometimes called Chris from his office.

"No, not yet," he replied, same as usual.

Kayla Jennings frowned at him, a hint of panic on her features. "Pete, you said you'd-"

"I know what I said," snapped Pete. He deflated quickly, though, and ran a hand through his hair again. "Sorry. Sorry, it's just..." he trailed off.

Kayla nodded and stepped closer to him, hugged him. "I know. Pete, please, talk to him about it soon."

He hugged her back, rubbing one hand up and down her back soothingly. "I will, I promise. Soon."

It took about a week for Chris to agree to spend time with Pete, in Los Angelas. In the three weeks after that, the entire DeSoto family went to Palo Alto for a few days. It took about a day to get there, and they checked into their motel as soon as they did arrive in town. It was the next day that was saved for the real activities.

They had two rooms booked; Roy and Chris went into one, Karen, Jenny, and the twins in the other. The twins would stay in Roy and Chris's room the next night. They got settled, had dinner, and went to sleep quite easily, the long drive exhausting all of them.

The family met Pete at the designated area. One of the hardest things Roy had ever done was to go with the rest of his family and leave Chris with Pete.

Pete took him around, showed him some of the small shops, the residential areas. Chris figured it was like the downtown area of Los Angelas. Then Pete took him to the Stanford University campus, telling him they were going to meet the rest of the Jennings. The campus was large, filled with buildings and people. Students were streatched out on the grass lawn, or sitting on benches or at picnic tables, cramming for their final test of the year before their own summer break. Pete took a few turns and they drove through another with businesses, mostly resturants. Another turn and they were driving down the long drive to Stanford Medical Center, to the guest parking lot.

Chris turned to Pete with a questioning look. "What are we doing here?"

Pete smiled, tightly. "You'll see."

They went up four flights and stepped into the long corridor. The set up was different from Rampart, but Chris knew enough to realize it was the pediatric unit. Pete led him past a dozen doors, stopped at one, knocked, opened it. One a hospital bed hooked up to too many machines for Chris to really recognize, was a teenage boy Chris figured to be his step brother, Ryan. Next to him, sitting in a chair, was his mother and Pete's wife. As Pete walked over to them, all Chris could really do was stare and blink.

Kayla took in Chris's expression, his stature, and turned to Pete. "Oh, Pete! You said you'd told him!"

That shook Chris out of it. Whatever 'it' was. "Told me what," he asked sharply.

Pete looked at Chris, guilt written all over his face. "I'm sorry, Chris. I was going to tell you." He turned to Kayla. "I was going to tell him."

"Tell me _what_," he asked again.

"Ryan is...well, he's sick. I really was going to tell you about it," Pete repeated, almost desperately, "but there just never seemed a good way or time to bring it up."

"Rambling, dad," the teen from the bed spoke up. He looked at Chris. "And I'm not just 'sick'. I have hepatitis B."

It was stated calmly, with authority and no nonsense. Chris closed his eyes, trying to absorb everything. It wasn't working. "I have to...I need..I gotta go for a minute." He turned and walked out the door.

"Chris-"

"Pete, don't," Kayla said softly, putting a hand on his arm to stop him. "Let him."

It felt like Chris had been walking the hospital for hours. No matter how long he walked, or how much he thought about it, he just couldn't wrap his head around it. Pete's son was sick. Not just sick, sick with hepatitis B. Why hadn't he told him? Why wait until the last minute? Why tell him like that? Chris didn't have any good answers and wound up back at Ryan's hospital room. He peeked in through the window. Ryan was by himself, still in the bed, still hooked to the machines, drawing something on a pad of paper. Chris sighed and went in, closing the door behind him.

Like before, he just stood in front of the door. Ryan had looked up when he'd come in, stopped drawing. For a second, they just stared at each other. Ryan smiled a little.

"They thought you'd called your parents to come pick you up."

Chris shrugged slightly. "I don't know if they're back at the motel or not."

"Mind if I tell the nurse to let them know, so they don't call the cops and freak everyone out?"

"Too late for the last part," Chris muttered. Ryan chuckled. "Sure, go ahead."

Ryan pressed the call button, told the nurse what was going on, then stared at Chris again. He went back to his drawing. "You can sit down, if you want. I don't bite, and neither do the machines."

Chris snorted. "I know the machines don't bite." He stepped closer and looked them over. "EKG, oxygen, pulse, temperature...your temp's a little high." He looked at the IV bags. "D5W? They add anything to it?"

Ryan blinked at him before barking a laugh. "What are you, a medical student, or a doctor in disguise?"

Chris blushed. "My dad's a paramedic and my step mom's a phlebotomist. And I know plenty of doctors and nurses."

"Bet it's interesting on parent career day."

"It can be." Chris looked at the paper. "What're you drawing?"

"Just a group portrait of some of the nurses." Ryan held it so Chris could see it a bit better.

Chris was no art expert, but he could tell that the drawing was good for a fourteen year old. The nurses were around a station, one was leaning against it, the other two were standing over a file. It looked like they were all discussing a case. Some of the details and poportions were off, but overall it was very good.

"You're not bad," Chris complimented, moving to sit in the chair Kayla had been in earlier. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

Ryan shrugged lightly, erasing a few lines carefully and adding more in their place. "Always been able to, mostly. Take art classes in school, go to the art class the university gives during the summer. 'Cause mom teaches there, I can go for free, just pay for supplies or whatever. Do you draw?"

"Nah, I play football, soccer."

Ryan smiled, eyes focused on some shading. "Ah, a jock."

"Ah, a nerd," Chris shot back. They boys shared another look and smiled at each other. Chris cleared his throat. "So, why didn't Pete tell me about..." He waved his hand vaugly.

His younger half brother sighed and leaned against his pillows. "I really don't know. He was supposed to, Chris. Mom told him for a coupla years now that he had to tell you." His eyes went down and he started to fiddle with the pencil, looked at Chris again. "I'm really sorry he didn't."

Chris shook his head. "Not your fault." They fell into an uncomfortable silence.

"So, got an siblings, beside me," Ryan grinned at him.

"Yeah. A sister, a year older than you, and a brother and sister, twins, four years old. They're not bad, kinda fun. You?"

"Nope, just you. Mom can't have anymore. Don't really know why, but that's the way it is. Said your dad's a paramedic?"

"With the LA County fire department. He's a fireman too."

"Nice. Bet you've seen the engine and everything."

Chris nodded. "Yep. It's pretty cool."

They talked the rest of the afternoon about their families, their schools, girls, movies, music, sports. As they did, it became easier for Chris to forget about the machines, the EKG's steady beep, the yellow parlor to Ryan's skin and eyes.

Kayla carefully opened the door, peeked in and smiled. She was glad Ryan could meet his older half brother. Kayla pushed the door open farther, gaining their attention.

"It's time for lunch boys," she said. "Chris, if you want you can eat in here with us, or you and I can go to the cafeteria while Pete and Ryan stay here."

Chris was intruiged to get to know Kayla; Pete's letters mentioned her, but not in any detail. And, maybe he could ask her more about Ryan and his hep B.

"Yeah, sure, sounds good."

He stood and they walked to the elevator together in silence.

They sat at a table in a corner, mostly away from the crowd. The cafeteria was full of the people you'd expect: doctors, nurses, other health care personnel, family. The two munched on their sandwhiches, two cheese burgers, in silence for a while, broken only by the general 'How is it?' questions and responses.

After slurping on some of his soda, Chris asked, "How did Ryan get hepatitis B?"

There was just the slightest pause on Kayla's part as she dipped her fries in ketchup. She shook her head in a tired kind of way. "It was about four years ago, when he was nine. He and some friends were playing in a place they weren't supposed to, some alley. Ryan slipped, fell, landed on a needle laying there. We didn't have any idea it had happened until he started getting sick. We thought it was the flu. The doctor took some blood for some standard tests, found an abnormality in his liver functions. He took some more blood, ran some more tests, and..." She shrugged. "That was the diagnosis."

"I'm sorry." It didn't feel like much, felt more like he was being condecsending, but it was all he could offer.

Kayla smiled and reached across the table to pat his hand in that motherly comforting way. "I am too. But, we've been coping."

There was some more silence. Finally Chris ventured to ask another question. "It's gotten worse, hasn't it?"

"It hasn't gotten better like we'd hoped," Kayla agreed. "It's rare, but it happens, the doctors say."

"My dad's a paramedic, and he knows some really great doctors," Chris said. "If you want, I could ask some of them if there's anything-"

Kayla shook her head, a sad smile this time. "That's incredibly sweet of you, Chris, and thank you for that. But, Ryan's doctors are all really great too, like I'm sure yours are, but I don't think there's anything they could do that isn't already being done."

They finished lunch and went back to Ryan's room. Pete and Ryan were done with their own lunches and Pete said it was time to take Chris back. He said his goodbyes, promised to call Ryan as soon as he could, and to be back to visit some more. They made plans to play football in the future, for Ryan to meet Chris's other younger siblings, and his parents. He thanked Kayla for lunch, said goodbye, and he and Pete were out the door, in the elevator, and then in the car.

While Pete drove, he had a thoughtful expression on his face, like he was thinking really hard. Occassionally he would glance at Chris.

"So, what'd you think of Ryan and Kayla?"

"They're okay. Ryan's a good kid, and Kayla's nice."

"Good, good." Some more silence. "So you know Ryan's pretty sick."

Chris cut a glance to Pete, looked back out his window. "Yeah."

"He's nearing advanced stages of chirrosis. Know what that is?"

"It's when the liver starts to fail," he said without hesitation, not really processing the conversation.

"Right. He needs a new liver."

"Oh. I'm sorry about that." Chris really was, but why was Pete talking about it like that?

Pete sighed and pulled into the parking lot of the motel. He didn't shut off the engine, but turned to look at Chris.

"Chris, if you're a match, would you donate some of your liver to Ryan?"

Chris stared at him blankly, the conversation and meaning of it all catching up and replaying in his mind. Without answering, he got out of the car and went to his shared motel room.

**Black-Angel-001: interesting, no? can't wait to see where this goes, haha. reviews=happy writer=more chapters. this is a proven mathamatical formula!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Give All My Secrets Away**

**Black-Angel-001: so now we know what pete wanted from chris. let's see what chris is gonna do**

**Give All My Secrets Away**

"_Tell my mother, tell my father, I've done the best I can to make them realize this is my life I hope they understand_."-Shinedown, _'Second Chance'_

Chris waited almost nervously in Dr. Brackett's office. He hadn't told the doctor much more than what he'd told his family; he had a couple of questions about something and it was fairly personal. He knew it worried his parents, but until he did talk to Dr. Brackett, there wasn't much he could do about that. The door opened, Chris turned to see Brackett come in, closing the door behind him.

"Hi Chris, sorry about that," the doctor said about his lateness.

"No problem. Thanks for seeing me, I know it's short notice."

Kel sat down behind his desk, hands folded in his lap. "Anytime. Now, what's going on?"

"Um, could this be confidential? At least for now?"

Kel frowned. "Unless it seriously endangers your health."

Chris paused, shook his head. "It's questions, mostly. I just don't want dad or Karen to find out about this until I know as much as I can."

"What's this about Chris?" Brackett leaned forward, his arms propped up on the desk. Chris was silent a moment and he waited. Finally, Chris told him about his bilogical father, the trip to Palo Alto, meeting Kayla and Ryan. About Ryan having hepatitis B.

"I want to know about that, the disease I mean. I read up on it at the library, but I'm not sure I get it."

"Okay. First of all it's an infection of the liver with two phases, acute and chronic. Which does Ryan have, do you know?"

Chris nodded. "Chronic."

"Then you should know that at this point the disease may never go away completely. It can be managed with medication, regular checkups with a physician, and even a proper diet and exercise plan. Kids have a greater chance of getting chronic hep B than adults. If it gets severe enough, the liver can become affected with a type of scarring known as chirrosis. Do you know what that is?"

"It's supposed to be in alcoholics, right? When they drink so much their liver fails?"

"That's what it's commonly associated with, yes." Brackett had to admit, he was impressed with the attention Chris was giving this; not many kids his age would be able to sit through it without fidgiting. "Although the liver can heal itself, chronic hepatits B can cause liver failure, resulting in the need for a liver transplant, or even a type of liver cancer. Statstically speaking, about 15 to 25 percent of people with this infection die of liver disease."

Chris thought about that, finger tapping on the arm of his chair. "So it isn't something lots of people get? I mean, if only 25 percent die of liver disease with this?"

Brackett shook his head. "No, it's actually the most common serious liver infection, worldwide. About 350 million people are chronic carriers, and more than 620,000 of those will die from liver related disease each year. In the US, about 800,000 to 1.4 million Americans are carriers, which causes about 3,000 deaths each year."

"Okay, so it's common," Chris said, surprised by the information.

"But preventable. An effective vaccine has resulted in a 82 percent decrease in the number of new infections reported here in the States."

"So, Ryan could have gotten it pretty easily then, and gotten it treated just as easily."

"That's the case most of the time. Most commonly the hepatitis B virus, or HBV, is transmitted through unprotected sex or sharing dirty needles."

"Ryan told me he fell on a needle playing in an alley when he was like, eight. He never told his parents about it until the doctor told them about the blood tests."

Brackett nodded. "That would do it. You can't transmit or get the disease from sneezing, coughing, hugging, shaking hands, or casual contact."

"Yeah, I got that much from the books," Chris grinned. That was good information to know, as it was a common misconception about how you could get not only hep B but anything.

"I'm glad you understand that, Chris." Brackett thought some, recalling everything he could that might be relevant. "The most common symptoms for HBV is flu-like, although there are other, more common symptoms as well, that usually develop within 1 to 4 months. Some don't even have symptoms and never realize they're sick.

"When chronic HBV has developed, there may be symptoms of liver damage, or failure. Persistent jaundice, or yellowing of the eyes and skin. Weigh gain, weight loss, loss of appetite, blood in vomit, bleeding from various areas, and excessive sleepiness, mental confusion."

Chris frowned, thinking back to his trip. "Ryan's skin and eyes looked yellow, and he looked kinda starved."

Brackett nodded knowingly. "That means he's experiencing liver damage, possibly failure."

"That's what Pete said, that he's almost in advanced stages."

"Then he's being looked at as a candidate for a transplant. Depending how bad it gets, and how available a liver is, he may not get one until he's on life support."

"But, Pete asked me to donate some of mine," Chris said, maybe a little angrily.

"Chris, the chances that you are a blood match to your half brother are significantly low." Brackett leaned forward again. "If you are a match, there may be other factors that prevent you from donating."

"Like what?"

"Various diseases, infections, or defects for one. Your parents for another."

Chris scowled, arms crossed over his chest. "What do they have to do with it?"

"You know very well what they have to do with it. You're underage and would need parental consent before you'd even be considered for a live transplant."

"What's a live transplant? I thought doctors had to get organs from dead people."

"The most common practice is to get organs from cadavars, yes. There's a whole system and process that goes into this, Chris, so it's safe for all parties involved. Transplants aren't my field of expertiese, but I can put you in touch with a transplantation doctor, if you'd like."

Chris nodded vigourously. "Yes, please."

"I'll have him call you, then." Brackett stood, as did Chris, and the pair shook hands.

"Thanks doc, this really helped."

"I'm glad it did." He hesitated. "Chris, you should talk to doctors about this with your parents present. That way, you all have the information you need."

Chris looked vaugly guilty, but determined. "I know, but I want to be able to make the decision first, and make any arguments necessary. Besides, I don't think they'll object. Too much," he grinned.

"Good luck," was all Kel could say.

As promised, Dr. Brackett had one of the transplant surgeons call Chris and set up a time to talk at the hospital. It worried Roy and Karen that Chris was going there so much; it worried them more that he wouldn't tell them what it was all about. Despite the little twinge of guilt Chris felt everytime he didn't say anything, he stubbornly kept his silence. If he had no control over anything else that was happening, at least he had control over this!

Dr. Joe Martinez was about Dr. Brackett's age, with dark Latino features and an easy manner. Although Chris was nervous, he felt he could trust this man to tell him the honest truth.

"So, Kel tells me you want to know about organ transplants, specifically, of the liver." Chris nodded and Dr. Martinez smiled sympathetically. "Family member?"

"My half brother," Chris replied, surprised. If Dr. Brackett had told him the particulars, Dr. Martinez would've said something more specific, not so vauge.

The doctor nodded. "That's usually the case, when someone wants to know. Or, they're a med student. Well Chris, what'd you like to know?"

"Could I be a live donor to my brother?" That was his most important question.

"I honestly couldn't tell you. Donors are matched based on blood type, body type, and general weight. If even one of those things don't line up, the person isn't considered. Since he's your half brother, I don't think chances are good."

"But if I am, hypothetically, and I'm able to donate, what would happen?"

Dr. Martinez leaned forward, gesturing with his hands. "You would have a series of tests done to determine if your liver is viable. Meaning, if it can be used. Blood will be drawn, x-rays will be taken, and you'd have an overall physical. If you have something like a cold, or you're physically unable to because of various reasons, you will be unabe to donate."

"But if I can," Chris said impatiently. "If I can what happens?"

"When it's determined you are a good candidate and that you can donate, you and your brother would be scheduled for surgery. This will be major abdominal surgery on both your parts. A piece of your liver, which would be about 50 percent of the recipient's current liver size, would be put into your brother. In six to eight weeks, both pieces of liver will have grown to normal size.

"After surgery, both of you will be taken to the intensive care unit, where you'll be monitored closely. When you're fully awake, able to breath on your own, all your tests come back clean and there's no sign of infection, you'll be taken out of ICU, usually takes about three to four days, and most likely be put in CCU, or critical care unit. Average hospital stay with no complications is about three weeks."

"There's a lot of 'abouts' and 'most likelies' here," Chris said dubiously. "Why?"

"Because while this is all exact in theory, it may not be in real life. There are a number of things that could go wrong: infection of the drainage tube, infections in general, high blood sugar, high blood pressure, bleeding, even pnuemonia from the breathing tube. Although there will be a number of people looking to monitor and prevent this, it could still happen."

"So, after the surgery. What then?"

"You'll see the transplant surgeon or hepatologist, liver doctor, about one to two times a week over three months. After that, you'll see your regular physican reqularly once a month for the first year after the transplant. After the year is up, it's all individualized. You'll be given a series of pre and post transplantation medications. In your case though, not as many as your brother. That's about it in a nutshell; the team who actually does the transplant will get more in depth with you and your family. Any questions?"

Chris felt too overloaded to think of any. He shook his head, shook hands with Dr. Martinez, and went home.

Three days later, Chris was standing in front of his parents, Jenny and the twins in their rooms, shifting nervously. He looked his dad and Karen in the eye, stopped shifting and stood straighter. When he spoke, his voice was loud, clear, and had no doubt whatsoever.

"I want to donate a piece of my liver to my half brother Ryan."

**Black-Angel-001: ta da! all the information about hep b and liver transplant is begotten from webmd, very helpful. i know that in the 80's early 90's (the time this is set) there might be a slight difference, but overall it's sound. please review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Give All My Secrets Away**

**Black-Angel-001: my computer is fixed! yay! :D it was embarissingly simple (there's a reason why i work with chainsaws) but it's been fixed! woot! now, to continue on.**

**Give All My Secrets Away**

"_I was not half so sure of most things as I was before; at present, I am hardly sure of anything but what God has revealed to me_." -John Wesley

Roy let that sink in, and could see Karen doing the same out of the corner of his eye. For a second, neither of them really could let it sink in, or process, because the statement had completely blindsided them. Karen decided to try and start over.

"Chris, you want to do what," she asked, just to be sure she'd heard correctly.

Chris sighed, repeated it, and watched as his parents blinked.

"Where did that come from?" Chris focused his attention on Karen, who seemed able to speak.

"Well, Ryan's liver is failing, he needs one, and if I'm a match I want to give him one," Chris explained using the short version.

Roy shook himself out of the shock. "And how did you find out about this? Did Pete tell you before in a letter or phone call? Why didn't you tell us sooner?"

Those questions made Chris shift nervously, with his eyes and head down. He muttered a response.

"Speak up Chris, didn't catch that."

He sighed again. "I said, Pete told me the day we went to Palo Alto. About all of it."

There were many things about that Roy had a problem with, but it wasn't the time to address them. It was the time, however, to address his son about the maybe-not-really-almost-over-his-dead-body organ donation Chris wanted to do.

"I'm guessing that's why you spent so much time at the hospital, huh." It was a statement and not a question and the way Chris' eyes quickly averted for a second confirmed the validity of that statement. "Trying to find out about it and all?"

"Yes, sir. Dad, I want to do this. Ryan's just thirteen, not even in high school yet! You know he's an artist? He's really good at it! And there's a girl he likes and wants to ask out but he might not have time without a liver. C'mon, dad, Karen, say you'll let me."

Karen glanced over at Roy and they shared a quick look before she shook her head. "Chris, you may have had a little over a week to process this and make a decision, but we haven't. It's a big thing, donating a part of your liver, especially to a half brother you barely know."

Chris made a face. "What's that got to do with it? He's still my brother, regardless of how well I know him. Or are you just saying this stuff cause you know I wouldn't be able to do the same thing for the twins?"

Karen's eyes widened a bit while Roy's narrowed. "Christopher Daniel, that's enough of that." His gaze softened a bit. "Chris, that's not what Karen is saying and you know it. I'm proud you want to do this for Ryan, but Karen is right that we haven't had the time to decide anything on the spot."

"But Ryan's running out of time," protested Chris.

Roy gave him a sympathetic look. "That's the price of waiting to share information. You have to understand that our first priority is you, and, unfortunatly, Ryan comes a far last, after your sisters and brother. We'll be making this decision based on what's best for you, not Ryan."

Chris nodded glumily and sat in one of the chairs. Maybe he should've done what Dr. Brackett had advised and taken his parents with him. But, he'd made his bed and now he had to sleep in it, as Uncle Johnny said. Wasn't easy to sleep in it though, if it was lumpy and hard.

Roy sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Okay Chris, give us a week. We'll try to have an answer for you then."

Chris nodded again and went off to his room, leaving his parents to talk it over.

Roy was definetely talking it over with the guys that Saturday. They were all gathered in Hank's living room (the one not littered as a bachelor's home or the home of a father with four kids) mostly shooting the breeze. Roy and Karen had agreed to talk to the same doctors Chris had, and Ryan's parents, before they decided anything. But the former 'A' shift of Station 51 was still a tight crew and they still shared problems with each other.

"That's a big thing of Chris to do," commented Stanley as he came back with drinks, tea for John and Roy, beer for everyone else.

"Yeah, but you know, some people get addicted to that sort of thing?" Chet looked around the room at the guys. "No, it's true! Some people get a big rush out of donating organs so they do it every chance they get. I read all about it in a magazine article the other day."

"Chet, that's plastic surgery," corrected Johnny with a grimace and a tone of distaste.

"Well same difference," Chet countered. He countined before anyone could comment on that either. "All I'm saying is, you gotta be careful with that sort of thing."

"Don't I know it," Roy said. "We don't know alot yet, but from what we've gathered so far it's a dangerous and complicated procedure. I mean, Chris might miss some of school next year, and he won't be able to play football for a long while. For a kid as active as Chris, it's gonna be rough on him."

"But if he doesn't and his half brother dies, it'll be even rougher," pointed out MIke. The other guys grimaced at the idea of it.

"That's true."

There was some silence, filled only by the low volume of the tv set. Johnny's eyebrows puckered together and he looked up at Roy, thoughtful.

"Roy, where did Chris get the idea to begin with? I mean, he's a pretty selfless kid but donating some of his liver wouldn't have been his first thought."

Roy frowned. "I don't know. I mean, Chris said Pete had told him about the liver failure and..." Roy's voice trailed off as a thought came to him. "That son of a bitch!"

Everyone was taken aback. Roy hardly swore, and never like that when he did. Roy looked at his friends, growing fury lighting his eyes.

"Pete. He told Chris about Ryan's liver failing and that he needed a transplant. I'll lay you ten to one he asked Chris to donate part of his liver for Ryan!"

While other mouths were busy falling open, Johnny's was busy mimicking Roy's earlier words. "That son of a bitch!"

Roy jumped up from his seat and started to move around, not really pacing. Four sets of eyes followed him. "I'll even bet that's why he got in touch with Chris to begin with! Ryan needed a transplant bad, there isn't one available from a cadavar, so Pete is reaching at straws using a half son to do it!" Roy sat down again, leaning so his hand was over his mouth.

"What are you going to do, not let Chris donate," asked Marco.

The first thing that crossed Roy's mind was to say yes, that was exactly what he was going to do. He even started to get up and head to Hank's phone to call home and tell one and all that there was no way in hell or God's green earth it was going to happen. But he thought about Chris talking about Ryan, how his son was with his siblings, how protective and how he'd do anything for them. Why would Ryan be any different? As far as Chris was concerned, wether or not Pete had asked him to begin with, Ryan was his little brother and big brother took care of his younger siblings, half or not. If Chris could, he'd donate anything necessary to Jenny, and the twins if it were possible. Chris was just doing what instinct and a lifetime of teaching demanded: take action and protect the younger ones.

How could Roy take that away from him?

DeSoto sighed and leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees and scrubbing both hands over his face. He didn't like it, and so help him God if anything happened to Chris he would beat Pete Jennings sensless and then some, but regardless of wether he liked it, lumped it, or otherwise, he knew exactly what he was going to do.

"No," he told Marco, and everyone else, softly. "No. I'm going to let Chris do it."

**Black-Angel-001: well there it is, after much anticipation. hope you enjoyed and i'll try to get back on a bi-weekly schedule for y'all. take care!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Give All My Secrets Away**

**Black-Angel-001: as was mentioned in a review earlier, there are one of two ways that this thing could go...still not entirely sure just how exactly i could handle that, but i'm working on it.**

**Give All My Secrets Away**

"_All that you need is in your soul and you can do this if you try. All that I want for you my son is to be satisfied_." -Lynyrd Skynrd, _'Simple Man'_

The sun shone bright and high over the little neighborhood, it's heat beating down on anything unprotected from it's rays. There weren't any clouds to offer comfort, but a strong northeasterly wind blew, a small relief. The lack of rain or any type of moisture promted residents and homeowners to take out their water hoses and water down their yards and plants. The DeSoto family wasn't any different. Late in the morning Roy had set out the sprinkler, the one that waved water back and forth, and shut it off only to move it from one part of the yard to another. Sometime in the afternoon, late enough that the sun wasn't directly overhead but still early enough that it was as hot as the lowest parts of hell, the kids had gone outside to play for a little bit. Roy and Karen didn't want to keep them inside on such a beautiful day, no matter how hot, and had only cautioned them about drinking water, taking breaks, and sitting in the shade of the porch.

The kids, however, had a better idea of how to stay cool and have fun. And really, their parents should have seen it coming.

It started with the twins cautiously approaching the sprinkler, then running away giggling when the water began to fall on them. With a grin and a shared look, Chris and Jenny had each grabbed a twin under their arm and ran through the water, jumping lightly over the bit of yellow plastic. They did that until all four of them were thouroughly wet, and the twins had gone from shrieks of fright to squeals of laughter. When they were set on their own two feet again, R.J. and Carrie chased each other and their big brother and sister around the sprinkler, between the trees, and everywhere else. It didn't take long for the kids next door to come out and join in, and soon the entire yard was filled with the sound of happily screaming and laughing children.

Karen peeked through the living room window to see what was going on. She smiled and laughed softly while she watched her children and the other kids, although managing to get them in the house with all of those wet clothes was going to be a challenge. But...she laughed again at their antics. But that was a small price to pay for the happiness her family had at the moment.

Thinking like that made her frown a bit. She and Roy had talked and had agreed that not letting Chris try would be worse than not letting him. The possibilities of what could go wrong terrified her, scared Roy to death, but they'd made peace with it, if only a little. They hadn't told Chris yet, had only come to the desicion two nights ago. They would, soon enough.

"What's going on out there," asked Roy as he came up behind her, body pressing against hers as he leaned over to look out the window. If she turned her head just so, Karen could kiss the point where his jaw met his neck and she did.

"Oh, just the kids playing with the neighbors."

"They're in the sprinkler," Roy stated. "Still wearing their clothes." Roy frowned, suddenly grateful his teenage daughter wasn't wearing white. It was weird what dad's had to worry about with daughters when they got older.

"It's just water, Roy," chuckled Karen. "And the yard is still getting watered."

Roy was silent a minute, then moved away, heading for the door. "It needs to be moved anyway."

"I'll bring out some lemonade," she called over her shoulder as she headed for the kitchen. And maybe some of those cookies she'd baked for Roy's station, that the firefighters loved.

Roy turned the spiget nestled in the flowerbed in front of the house until the water slowed, then died out. The kids all made sounds of disappointment and turned to him with pouts.

"Daaaaddddy," drew out Carrie. "We was playin' in that."

R.J. nodded. "That was mean, Daddy," he intoned solemnly.

"Yeah, Dad," snickered Chris.

"Daddy is such a meanie," teased Jenny with a sad shake of the head and a sympathetic look with the twins and Chris.

Even the neighborhood kids said something, although they were more tentative about it; after all, he wasn't their father and they had come over without any real permission.

Roy rolled his eyes at the teenagers and smiled at them all. "I'm moving it, that's all. And unlike you, I'm not interested in getting wet." He snagged the sprinkler and moved away with it to another part of the yard. While he was setting it down, Chris came over and slung and arm around his shoulders, wet clothes pressed firmly against Roy's dry ones and an unrepentant grin on his face.

"Aw, Dad, don't be that way."

Roy raised his eyebrows and bent back to the sprinkler, appearing to be arranging it. Jenny put herself on his back, arms around his neck, wetting him further.

"Yeah, Dad."

The twins, ever watching their siblings and imitating them the best they could, ran over and hugged him too.

"Yeah, Dad," they said together.

Roy stood, dislodging all four of them, and looked unimpressed. Their faces feel a little at the lack of response and Roy couldn't supress his grin anymore. The water hose he'd carefully hidden against his leg shot out in front of him and he shouted, "Now, Kar!" Water exploded from the end he was holding and Roy pressed his thumb halfway over the end to make a spray. Like the experienced firefighter he was, he turned the hose expertly on his kids, spraying them near their faces and all over. They all shrieked, yes, even Chris, and ran. Roy went after them, cheered on by Karen, and wet down all of the kids like they were a building on fire. At one point, Jenny had grabbed the taller more broad Chris and dragged him in front of her, letting him get sprayed directly in the face. Once Chris was done spluttering and wiping water out of his eyes, he'd turned to Jenny. She was too busy laughing to notice his approach until the last moment and by then it was too late. He scooped her up into an over the shoulder carry, staggered once, then headed to their dad, who obligingly sprayed water down Jenny's shirt. The girl squirmed and wiggled so much that they fell over together in a heap. The other kids dog piled them and Roy, after watching them for a moment, went and watered down the flowerbed.

It was an afternoon of laughter, fun, lemonade, and darn good cookies. Then the neighbor kids' parents brought over watermelon and they all munched happily on that, spitting out seeds when appropriate. The watermelon was messy, especially on the four year olds, and Roy gave them another spray down, the least he could do after all, before the neighbors went home.

R.J. yawned and hardly a minute later, Carrie did too.

"I think it's time for a nap," Karen said. Before the twins could say they weren't sleepy, they didn't need a nap, she added, "For all of us."

Chris and Jenny had yawned too, and Roy followed suit because hey, yawns were more contagious than a cold. The twins still didn't like it, but if the Chris and the Jenny were gonna take a nap too, well, it was better. Besides, it wasn't really a nap because big kids like them didn't take naps.

"To the backdoor," Roy said, lifting R.J. up by the arms to swing him down the porch. He did the same for Carrie, put both arms around Chris and Jenny's shoulders and smiled at Karen when she went inside to meet them there with towels.

The twins were stripped and wrapped in towels without much of a fuss; although they were starting to learn about modesty and everything that went with it, they hadn't learned enough to be truely bothered with it. Jenny was next, and Roy and Chris respectfully turned their backs while Jenny shucked out of her outer clothes while her towel was around her, a feet women somehow knew but men didn't. After that, it was just Roy and Chris, and Chris, having played football for so many years and been in locker rooms with other guys, stripped with only a hint of embarressment. Team mates were one thing, dads were another thing entirely.

Roy wrung out each piece of clothing then hung them on the clothes line to dry better. When he turned back, Chris was still standing there, staring at him thoughtfully.

"Go inside, dry off," he said while wringing another shirt.

"Dad, I wanted to talk to you about-"

Roy cut him off gently. "We will. But first, you need to go dry off and put some dry clothes on. It's hot as hell but the wind is strong enough for a chill, especially when you're wet. You don't need to get sick."

Chris studied him a moment longer then nodded and went inside. Roy finished up then went inside to change himself. When he came back out, Chris was waiting for him in the kitchen. His clothes were still sticking wetly to him, and his hair looked like it's been combed with his fingers, but he was dry and out of the wind and Roy would take what he could get. He poured himself some lemonade, another for Chris, and sat at the table.

"What did you want to talk about," he asked and left it at that.

Chris chewed on it a little longer before blurting out, "I've been an ass."

Roy raised an eyebrow at the language and Chris flushed under it, but he continued on determindly. "I have, about alot. The situation with Pete, then Ryan and the transplant. I've said a bunch of stuff I shouldn't have, didn't really mean, and you and Karen put up with it more than you should have."

Roy waited, feeling that Chris was pausing to gather his thoughts more than he was waiting for his dad to say something.

"It's just...it sucks. I mean, finding out I'm not your biological son, and that you'd known from day one and had been keeping it from me, and that I don't really have tie to the family besides Jenny it...it sucks and it's..really, really lonely."

Now Chris needed Roy to say something and Roy abandoned his barely touched drink to lean forward, close to Chris.

"You do have a tie to this family, Chris, more than just Jenny. You've got history with us, love, and that can mean alot more than blood. I never told you because one day I realized, it didn't matter who fathered you, it mattered who raised you. I looked down at you in your crib, and you reached up for me and that was it. You were mine, and I was determined to do everything I could to make sure you stayed safe, happy, and loved. And even before then, I can't say I looked at you and saw another man's child. Honestly, I looked at you and saw Joanne's child, her son. That alone made me love you, because you were her child. The betrayl still hurt, still made me angry when I thought about it too hard or too long, but it wasn't aimed at you. Never at you."

"So...you don't think of mom's affair every time you see me?" Chris looked up from the table, finally, and Roy could see the hurt and hope there in his eyes, in the way he bit his lip.

"God, no," Roy said firmly. "Why should I? What your mother did was on her and Pete Jennings, not you." Chris nodded, breathed out a shaky breath, and looked back at the table. Roy decided it was time to tackle some of the other problems. "I'm sorry," he said when he couldn't figure out anything else to say about them.

Chris's head snapped up, confused. "Why're you sorry?"

"Because you've been feeling lonely and left out of the family, and I didn't know. I swear, if I'd known I would've done something to fix it, but I didn't. It's not an exscuse, barely a reason. Even now, I don't know what to say to make it better except I'm sorry."

Chris started biting his lip again. "You don't have to be. There really isn't any reason for me to feel left out, but I do."

Roy felt a frown cross his face as he put something together. "Is that why you keep bringing up the twins, like about not being able to donate for them?"

Chris hesitated for a second before nodding. "This whole thing with Ryan and Pete made me realize, I wouldn't be able to help the twins this way if they needed it, maybe even Jenny. Made me realize beyond that, beyond sharing a last name and a house I wasn't really a part of them. I mean, I can't even say we share Jenny because we don't."

"But you do. Maybe you don't have anything in common with them genetically, but what does that matter? You've grown up never knowing I wasn't your biological father-does that mean we don't have anything we share?"

Chris frowned and shook his head. "You taught me how to read, and how to play catch, and about firemen and...oh."

Roy nodded. "Oh. And with the twins, you share similiar things. You teach them how to play nicely with other kids, you help them with their problems, you don't just dismiss them. There's a reason why R.J. and Carrie call you 'the Chris', you know. LIke I said, you share history and love with this family, and that counts for something. It counts for alot. If you ever start feeling like you don't belong, you let me know and I'll make sure you don't get that feeling again."

The confidence in Roy's voice, the unspoken 'I'm going to make everything better and you'll be okay', behind the words, made Chris feel all of five again, waiting for his dad to fix something broken, wether it was a toy or Chris' own feelings. All he could do was nod. Roy reached out and hugged him, tightly and without leaving room for doubt. Chris hugged him back, clung, and let the tears he'd been holding in out.

Hours later, after everyone did have that nap, Karen and Roy too, Chris was sitting in the living room facing both of his parents. He had an idea what this was about, and was incredibly nervouse about what they would say, and what he would do if they wouldn't let him. He couldn't really say on that point.

"Chris, we're going to let the doctors run the tests to determine if you're a match to Ryan," Roy said seriously, looking Chris directly in the eye. "If you are, then...then we'll sign the papers for the surgery."

Chris' eyes went wide. "You will?"

Karen nodded. "They'll do the tests at Rampart, and send the results to Palo Alto. It's too long of a drive for blood draws and a physical. Of course, if you're a match and able to donate, then we'll have to go."

"Seriously? You're gonna let this happen?"

Roy sighed. "There's no 'let' about it, Chris. You're a big brother with a little brother in trouble, and between your natural instinct and how you've been raised, you'd find a way somehow. Not allowing this would hurt you more and we're not prepared to do that."

Wow. Okay, he'd never thought they would really say yes; honestly, he hadn't let himself think about it because then he couldn't get his hopes up. "Alright. When?"

"We'll make the appointment for this week. Dr. Brackett is going to be in charge of it personally." The phone started ringing, and they knew better to ignore it. Roy picked it up. "DeSoto..Johnny? Look, slow down and repeat that. Alright, alright, I am." Roy indicated the t.v and Karen went over to turn it on. She didn't have to change any channels because right away they saw the special news broadcast. "Yeah, I am now."

On the screen, shots of California forests would've been scenic, picture perfect and tourist ready. With the dark smoke drifting from the trees, the flick of orange and red you could just barely make out between the green, it seemed more like the beginning of a nightmare. A voice filtered in, talking about the fire. No one knew how it started, wether it was accidental or on purpose, so far it wasn't near any homes but that could change at any moment. Firefighters were already on the scene, working to control the fire and keep it contained. The arial view showed a plane fly over, then drop something red. The reported informed whoever was watching that already the fire had burned about twelve acres, and that it was the first fire of the summer. He said they were lucky one hadn't started sooner, that it was small by certain standards, and that he would keep the public updated and inform them of any evacuation orders.

When he started talking about how wildfires were started, what contributed to them, Karen turned the volume down so it was barely heard. The three of them watched the images, Roy still holding the phone to his ear. Johnny must have said something because he visibly shook himself.

"I saw it. Thanks for calling to tell me. Right. Uh-huh. Yeah, I'll let you know if I'm called out. You too. Bye, Johnny." He hung up, looked at the screen again, then at his wife and oldest son.

There was always the possiblitly that it could be contained and put out without Roy having to go in. There was the possibility that he would have to go. Between the two, the latter was the most likely. Wildfires were hard, nearly impossible, to predict, and with the wind blowing as it had been lately, the chances were slim on control.

Before it had been a matter of 'when' not 'if' a fire started. Now, it was a matter of 'when' and not 'if' Roy was going out with his fellow firefighters and station.

**Black-Angel-001: that's some added tension nobody needs, but it brings a new element to it all, dontcha think? review please!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Give All My Secrets Away**

**Black-Angel-001: i'm glad chris' attitude is shaping into something better and yes i am going to work johnny into the fire...somehow :p**

**Give All My Secrets Away**

"_I'm through accepting limits 'cause someone says they're so. Something I cannot change, but til I try I'll never know_." -Wicked, _'Defying Gravity'_

"Alright, here comes a little pinch."

Chris winced as the needle slid into his vein. The phlebotomist made some soothing sounds, then started chatting about..well, Chris wasn't really sure what, since he was drowning her out. Instead, he watched as his blood filled one tube, then another as she switched them out. Looking at the tray next to him, he could see at least three more so with a sigh he settled back and closed his eyes.

"Open your eyes, honey," the phlebotomist admonished. He did reluctantly. She gave him a vaugley sympathetic smile. "We're almost done."

No he wasn't, not yet. After the blood draws he would be going to get a physical, then an xray, then...Chris actually wasn't sure what came after that. He'd lost track, there were so many tests. He and his parents had arrived at Rampart sometime around eight, spent about three hours filling out paperwork and signing consent forms, talking to doctors. Now, another two hours later, Chris was finally starting the tests that would tell him wether or not he was a match to Ryan. All the tests would be looked over by doctors here, then sent to Stanford for confirmation.

Finally, she pulled the needle out carefully, put cotton over the vein and pushed his arm out to put pressure on the point. When she finished arranging tubes and marking them, the pulled out a band-aide over the cotton and patted his arm.

"Alright sweetie, all done," she said with a smile. She showed him the way out and left him to stand there in the lab waiting room trying to figure out what to do next. His dad moved next to him.

"Everything okay? Feel alright?"

"Yeah, m'okay." Chris sighed and looked at him. "What next?"

Roy put an arm around his shoulders. Chris knew it was for a show of support and in case he somehow ended up passing out. He let his dad lead him out and down the hallway to the elevator. Once in there, Roy let him go but his shoulder kept brushing Chris' even as he leaned against the wall of the elevator. When they stepped off, Karen was in the hall waiting for them. She smiled and nodded at a group of chairs, telling them silently where she would be. Roy nodded at her, took Chris to the exam room and waited with him until the doctor showed before he left.

Dr. Brackett nodded at Roy as he went out. "Roy," he said pleasently although distantly. He was focusing on his chart in his hands.

"Doc," replied Roy with one last reassuring smile at Chris.

"Alright, you ready?"

No, Chris wanted to say. Instead he said he was and took off his shirt. While Brackett went through the exam, he talked. He didn't really expect replies but that was fine with Chris. He lay on the exam table and stared at the ceiling while Brackett pressed on his abdomen, feeling for any swollen or tender areas, particularly around the liver.

"Chris, are you okay?"

The young man snapped out of his thoughts and glanced at the doctor. "Yeah, sure. Why?"

"You seem...preoccupied."

Chris sighed. "I'm just tired is all."

"Chris, if you're having second thoughts-"

"I'm not," Chris cut in. He looked at Brackett, saw the man watching him closely and looked back at the ceiling, sighing again. "I'm not, really. I'm just...I guess I just didn't realize how much there was to this. I mean, I knew, but I didn't know." He made a frustrated sound and ran both hands through his hair. "If that makes sense."

"It does. Go ahead and sit up." Chris did, put his shirt back on while Kel made a few notes in the chart. "Wanna bring your parents in?"

Chris shrugged and didn't see the frown Brackett aquired. When Karen and Roy came in, Kel went over everything.

"Well your vitals look good, your temps normal. Physical looks good, no swelling or anything worrisom. All we need now is your bloodwork to comeback and take the xrays and such. By the time you get done with those we'll have the bloodwork back." He opened the door and made a motion. Dix came in pushing a wheelchair that Chris rolled his eyes at it.

"Don't you roll your eyes at me," she mock-scolded. "You know it's policy. Now, are you going to get in this chair or am I going to have to wrestle you into it?"

"No ma'am," he said with a small laugh. He obidently got in the chair and started bantering with Dix as she wheeled him out and into the hall. Brackett halted Karen and Roy before they had a chance to leave.

"Can I speak to you for a few minutes?"

Concern now in their eyes they followed him into his office. When all three were settled, Brackett folded his hands together and braced his elbows against the top of his desk. Roy's brow furrowed as his concern deepended. He knew when the doctor did that he was trying to convey something he thought deeply important.

"Doc? Something wrong?"

"Chris is okay, isn't he," Karen asked, picking up on Roy's increasing worry.

"Physically yes. Mentally and emotionally I'm not sure."

Karen shared a quick look with Roy. "What do you mean?"

"He seems to have detached himself from the process. That isn't unusal or uncommon, but it makes me wonder if he will be able to handle not only this process, but if he is actually accepted as a match and candidate. It's also a good indicator of how he'll handle the post-op. If he can't, then there's no way he'll be able to donate."

That's what they had been afraid of. Chris was strong in more ways than one, but everyone had a limit, or something that could be beyond them. If this was something Chris couldn't get past, or deal with, it would hurt him deeply.

"So what can we do?"

"Talk to him, be there for him. Take him to a therapist if he won't talk to you."

"You mean a shrink?"

"I mean a proffessional who would be able to help Chris deal with whatever is going through his head over this," Brackett corrected, somewhat tightly. Roy flushed slightly. Brackett sighed. "Look, if Chris needs help then I'm looking to give it to him however he needs it. This is a big deal, and it will affect him long term. Being able to deal now means being able to deal later."

Karen nods. "Of course. We'll talk to him and see what he says and how he reacts."

"Let me know what happens." That signaled the end of the conversation, for the time being. Until Roy and Karen could talk to Chris, Brackett could do no more but watch and wait.


	11. Chapter 11

**Give All My Secrets Away**

**Black-Angel-001: i know this is slow going, but please be patient and bear with me!**

**Give All My Secrets Away**

"_I'm just a step away, I'm just a breath away, loosing my faith today (falling off the edge today) I am just a man, not superhuman (I'm not superhuman), someone save me from the haze...just another family torn...just a step from the edge_." -Skillet, _'Hero'_

Chris wasn't talking to them. Any time Roy or Karen tried to bring it up, Chris would brush them off with a 'I'm fine, quite worrying' or 'It's no big deal.' The teen was starting to get annoyed with the questions and lashed out angrily, snapping and biting their heads off. The thing was, his parents could see that he wasn't fine, that something about the whole thing was getting to him. They could guess at what it was but there was no way to know for sure unless Chris told them. Hence, the problem.

Dr. Brackett had halted all further tests until Chris came clean about what was bothering him and the doctors in Palo Alto agreed. When Pete had found out, he'd called pitching a fit, yelling and shouting until Roy had hung up on him. It sent Chris further into stoney silence, making him even more unapprochable. Brackett talked about a therapist but when Chris blew up in his office, shouting loud enough to be heard outside, he hadn't brought it up again. To Roy and Karen, however, he did say that if Chris didn't talk to someone, wether he was an eligable match or not he would not be allowed to undergo the procedure.

That conversation had brought them to their current situation. In a last ditch effort to get Chris to open up, Roy and Karen had told him what Brackett had said. Instead of the effect they were hoping, Chris' expression became stoney and angry and he got up and left without saying much of anything. They'd figured he'd gone to sit outside to cool off, but when they checked he wasn't there. Then they figured he'd gone for a walk around the neighborhood, but a subsequent search by Roy proved that to be untrue as well. All they could do was sit and wait, see if Chris came back before they brought the police in.

Chris had wandered around the block for a while, not really seeing where it was he was going. All he knew was that he needed out of that house, away from all the concerned glances and constant questions. Eventually he started walking down the streets of LA, nearly a block from his destination before he realized where he was heading. Johnny's apartment building was in view and Chris had a good idea why he'd ended up there. When dad and Uncle Johnny had started working together, he just kind of inserted himself in their lives and never really left. When mom had died, he became a much more intergrated part of their little family, truely becoming the uncle they'd called him. Those months without him, both when he was taking drugs and in rehab, had been hard. They'd never really gotten used to not having him around, even caught themselves talking about what they were going to tell Uncle Johnny next time they saw him. It was better now, had been for a couple of years. Even when Chris and his dad had been at each others throats, Johnny had been a constant for both of them, a willing ear, a sounding board, a shoulder to lean on, a distracting presence. The entire DeSoto family relied on him for so many things.

Chris needed him now, wether he was willing to admit it or not. He just wanted someone to not ask if he was okay, how he was doing, what he was thinking, or feeling. He wanted someone to just be there, to be able to wait for him to be ready to talk if and when he wanted to. He knocked on Johnny's door and waited.

It took a few minutes, and when the door opened Johnny was standing in jeans with his now short hair plastered wetly to his head. Chris found himself embarressed suddenly; he should've called. Johnny could've been busy, maybe had to go to work. But before he could make exscuses and apologies and leave, Johnny had him inside and on the couch, pressing a glass of water to his hand. He left for a few minutes, came back with a shirt on and his hair now mused from what Chris assumed was a towel. Johnny sat in the armchair across from the couch and waited, patiently, not judging and not saying much of anything.

Chris drained the water, suddenly aware of how thirsty he was. Johnny got him more, admonishing him to drink it slowly this time.

"Can I call your dad and let him know you're here? They'll be worried."

He may have wanted space, but Chris didn't want his parents to worry needlessly. He nodded his agreement, leaned back and closed his eyes, letting the one side of the conversation he could hear wash over him. It didn't last long, a few reassurances, a few promises, maybe a joke, and then the click of the phone being put back in the cradle. He cracked open an eye to warily watch Johnny, waiting for the inevitable, "Are you okay?"

Instead, Johnny nodded back to the glass. "You should finish the rest of that. You're a bit dehydrated and need to replenish your fluid volume."

The quiet concern of a different sort made something crack in Chris' chest. He felt his face flush warm, his ears start to ring. There was a tingling feeling spreading throughout his body. He slammed the glass down on the coffee table and stood in a rush, face contorting in what felt like anger but didn't quite feel right; why was he angry at Uncle Johnny?

The thought made him pause, mouth open, breath panting in heavily. Johnny watched him quietly, waiting to see what Chris would do. After a moment, Chris sat heavily in his seat again, hands hanging between his knees and head hanging.

"Sorry," he apologized.

"I know," came the response. He waited again.

The sigh Chris heaved was large and full, staying in his lungs for all of three seconds before being slowly exhaled. When he looked up at Johnny, there were unshed tears filling his eyes, making the whites red. Johnny frowned and leaned forward. Chris sniffled and rubbed at his eyes, and Johnny flashed to when he first met the kid, when he was about five. He'd looked up at Johnny, eyes big and wide, in tears from the fright of being around strangers, sniffling and rubbing his eyes while clutching his mother's hand desperately. Like then, Johnny wanted to do something to make it better.

Unfortunatly, he just wasn't sure how.

When Chris blinked, the tears spilled over and he snorted wetly. "Look at me, crying over some jerk I've only known for a few years."

"But you've connected with him, right?"

"It was a lie!" The tears were flowing freely now, cheeks turning splotchy and nose starting to run. "He didn't get in touch with me to get to know me, he just wanted to cozy up so I'd do something for him! He never would've cared otherwise."

"Chris." Johnny couldn't say more than that-what else can you say to a truth like that?

"Getting me to Palo Alto, that was just to meet Ryan. He figured I never would've even considered a transplant like this if I hadn't met the kid! If I'd never met Ryan, I wouldn't be doing this!"

"You still don't have to. Chris, you honestly don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"Yeah I do," the boy sniffled miserably. "I gotta now."

"Why?"

"'Cause that's what big brothers do," Chris said simply, as if that said it all.

And it pretty much did. Johnny didn't know for sure what it was like to be a big brother since he'd never been one nor had one. Well, that wasn't entirely true. He figured Roy was like his big brother in a lot of ways. Roy did things for Johnny he didn't think the man normally wouldn't do. Still, this was major, potentially deadly surgery they were talking about.

"You have the right to consider yourself, Chris. To think about what's best for you first," Johnny said seriously. "Put yourself first right now, and tell me if you still want to do the surgery."

Chris sat back and considered. Slowly, Chris shook his head no.

Johnny smiled sympathetically. "But you're still going to do it, aren't you?"

Chris nodded, tears starting again. "I'm still gonna do it."

Johnny moved to sit next to him on the couch and quietly held Chris will he cried.

**Black-Angel-001: oh my gosh, i've finally updated! sorry about that, been crazy at work and whatnot. but better late than never! so chris has had some of his emotional dilema come out, but that's not all of it, is it? and what about that fire? hmmm...well, why don't we go on to the next chapter and find out, yeah?**


	12. Chapter 12

**Give All My Secrets Away**

**Black-Angel-001: next chapter, as promised!**

**Give All My Secrets Away**

"_Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars? I could really use a wish right now_." -B.o.b, '**Airplanes**'

It was the moment of truth. In a doctor's office at the Stanford Medical Center in Palo Alto, four people eagerly and anxiously waited to learn the fate of two boys. No one spoke or looked at each other, instead focusing on various points in the room. Finally, the doctor, a middle aged man who was too thin and balding early, came in with a stack of files under his arm. Without much preamble and not much in the way of greeting, the doctor got straight to it.

"Chris, you are a match." Before the sighs of relief could get too far the doctor continued quickly. "However, you are a four out of six. This means that even though you are eligible to give your brother a liver, you are not as close as we'd like."

"So, what does that mean?"

The doctor turned to Pete. "That means that the chance of Ryan rejecting the transplant is probable." He folded his hands together. "What you have to realize is that even with an exact match, there is still that probability. But, we're fairly confident that won't be the case."

"I can do it," Chris asked tentativly.

"Your bloodwork, scans, physical and psychological all look good and are up to standard. So yes, Chris, if you still want to you can."

Chris sat back, a little overwhelmed. It had always been in the back of his mind, but he'd never really thought about being able to make the donation. It was a little surreal. Pete brought it all crashing back into startling clarity.

"When can we begin?"

"There's paperwork to fill out and sign, pre op procedures to be done. Once Chris is admitted, we can get the ball rolling."

The adults shook hands all the way around and Chris watched the door. His dad had been called in to work overtime at a station while other firefighters battled the blaze in the forest. He had promised to show up, even for a little bit. Pete came over to him.

"I can't really believe it," he said, excitment and hope shining in his eyes. "Come on, Chris, they're waiting for you. As soon as Karen signs the paperwork, then-"

"No."

Pete stopped cold. "I'm sorry?"

"I said no. I don't want to be admitted or go through the pre op until my dad gets here. Dad said he would be here and sign the papers, so we have to wait for him."

"I thought he was working overtime." Chris nodded hesitantly. "Then it could be a while. Chris, Ryan doesn't have the time-"

"He did before," spat Chris. "It was like he had all the time in the world while you were buttering me up, getting me ready to jump at this. You can do this much for me, at least."

"If you want a signature, Karen is more than able-"

"I said I want my dad."

"Then I'll sign it."

Chris turned wide eyes to Pete.

"You said you want your dad to sign it, so I'll sign it."

Karen and Kayla had just heard the last part of their conversation and both had their own reactions. Kayla looked horrified and Karen just looked angry. Despite their diametrically different feelings, they both were ready to step in and give the man a piece of their minds.

Fortunatly, Chris was perfectly capable of speaking for himself; after all, his dad had taught him how.

"Do you even hear what you're saying? You sound nuts. Just because you gave me half of my DNA you think you have the right to sign those papers?" Chris chuckled humorlessly, shaking his head. "You have no idea, do you? I can't even believe..."

"Chris-"

"You're not my dad," the teenager hissed angrily, fists clenched tightly. He could feel his fingernails digging into his palms but he ignored it. "You didn't go to my peewee games, or Boy Scouts. You didn't teach me to read, or swim, or ride a bike. You didn't even sit up with me when I was sick. When mom died, you didn't hug me and reassure me and work crazy, back breaking shifts just to make ends meet so me and my sister wouldn't have any more upset in our lives. You didn't even put us first over finding someone else to spend the rest of your life with."

Roy stood quietly in the doorway, watching and listening. He caught Karen's eye and gave a slight shake of the head, indicating she shouldn't say anything. Chris needed to get it out, and Roy would let him. Next to him, Johnny watched and silently cheered.

"Even now, you didn't think of me. My dad, my real, honest to God dad, he did all of those things. Yeah, he couldn't be there for alot of stuff cause of work, but I never really minded 'cause I knew that if I ever really needed him, he'd be there. And he has been, ever since this mess with you started. He didn't like you, and he was probably jealous and angry and I can't blame him for that. Even through all that, though, he made sure I knew exactly how he felt about me, that he loved me."

Pete stood stock still, no emotion betraying him. Chris looked him up and down, shook his head and sighed. "You're doing what you have to for Ryan, I get that. My dad's done the same for me and my sisters and brother. You've got a kid you've known from birth from a marriage you're really a part of and I'm not really much to you, nothing more than a ray of hope or something. Fine. But you could at least have the decency to tell it like it is to my face. You could at least tell me the truth of the matter, and then not demean anything I'm doing or anything my dad's done by trying to claim that title.

"So I'm telling you right now Pete. Don't _ever_ say you're my dad or my father ever again. You're not, never have been and never will be."

Done and emotionally drained, Chris sank down into a chair, feeling much lighter than he had since the whole mess with Pete Jennings had started. In that one second when Pete had proclaimed himself Chris' dad, Chris had gotten it. It had hit him like a lightning bolt hitting a tree and he finally understood what his dad and Karen had been telling him for months, years even. Just because they weren't blood, didn't mean they weren't family. Just because Roy wasn't his biological dad, didn't mean everything he'd done for Chris meant squat. When Chris thought of what 'dad' meant, he thought of the guy who patiently listened to him talk, showed him how to throw a pitch, and spoke to him about life and it's lessons. He thought of the guy who'd done everything he'd said to Pete and more.

He thought of his dad.

Pete left the room, Kayla hot on his heels and ready to give him her own earful. Karen put a hand on Chris' shoulder and smiled down at him. She nodded towards the door.

"Your dad's here."

Chris swiveled in the chair and looked at his dad. He saw Uncle Johnny there too, but before he knew it he was up and hugging his dad like he hadn't in a long time. He clutched at his father's clothes, with the scent of a firehouse, Rampart, and smoke somehow clinging to them, and put his face in his shoulder. Roy, although briefly stunned, didn't hesitate to put his arms around his nearly grown son.

When they pulled apart, Roy put both hands on his shoulders and smiled. "I am very proud of you, alright? Don't ever forget that."

Chris grinned. "I know." He went in for another hug, this one not quite as desperate as the last. His dad, his own superhero, was there. Chris didn't feel so much like a lost little boy anymore, didn't feel so adrift. "Love you, Dad," he said quietly.

"Love you too, kiddo." Roy pulled back again. "Come on, lets go get those papers filled out and signed."

**Black-Angel-001: i feel like i've been stressing certain points over and over and over again...looking back, i have some stuff. but in all honesty, it's cause chris is freakin' stubborn and JUST NOW got everything roy and them have been trying to tell him! seriously, these characters write themselves, i just put it down...**


	13. Chapter 13

**Give All My Secrets Away**

**Black-Angel-001: holy crap i am so sorry y'all! finals stressed me more than i thought and i was gonna post last saturday but a bad storm blew in for the weekend! bleh, and work too :( sorry again, and i hope you enjoy this chapter; it's been a long time coming.**

**Give All My Secrets Away**

"_Send me on my way still smiling, maybe that's the way I should go...I've said it so many times...I'll still love you the same...It's all that I can say, so I'll be on my way._" -Shinedown, _'Call Me'_

Chris was settled in his private room, already hooked to IVs and monitors, with the tests already done-all that remained was the final result and ER set up. Roy, Karen, and Johnny were waiting with him, not really saying much of anything to each other, but not needing to really; everything had already been said. The occasional nurse popped in to check on things, see how Chris was doing and let them know on the progess being made, but quiet dominated the room.

There was a quick and brisk knock on the door, and yet another nurse came in. Unlike her predecessors, she looked a little more harried, more concerned.

"Mr. DeSoto, there's an emergency call for you at the nurses station," she said.

Roy and Johnny shared a look. This was a call they'd been expecting to come for weeks now, something entirely unsurprising. But, neither of them expected it to hurt so much that only one of them was going without the other.

"I'll be back," he said with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Karen and Chris saw through it, and knew just as well as Johnny what that call was about, but let Roy pretend.

Johnny went out with him and listened to the one sided conversation closely.

"DeSoto here. Hey Cap. No, they haven't started yet, waiting on some tests to come back. I can drive down if...what? Oh. Alright, I'll head that way then. Right. Yeah, you too. Bye."

Roy hung up the phone, paused a moment, then headed down the hallway, going nowhere in particular, just walking that way. Like before, Johnny went with him.

"Palo Alto's fire department was asked to help. Cap wants me to ride in with them; they've already been told I'm coming. They're leaving in the next hour, and I'm going to leave right away to help them get ready," Roy told him.

"Makes sense. What about Chris," Johnny asked seriously.

"We talked about it before. He already knew that I could go in, we were just waiting for it. Karen's going to keep the base updated, and they're going to try and get those updates to me when they can. What about you, does it seem like your volunteer unit is going to go in?"

Johnny had joined the volunteer firefighters about a year after he started working at AI and he shook his head no in response to Roy's question. They shared a long look, one of understanding, but not of goodbye. They'd never said those words or anything like them in the entire time they'd worked together; they weren't starting now.

When they entered Chris' room again, Roy didn't have to say anything; they could tell from the look on his face, the tense set to Johnny's shoulders. Chris nodded.

"Okay," he said, trying to keep a look of utter panic off his face.

Roy went up to the bed and drew Chris into a hug. "You'll be ok, you will. And I'll know everything as fast as Karen can get it to the station and they can get it to me. Johnny'll stay here with you and Karen, and Aunt Stacey is going to bring Jenny and the twins as soon as you're up for it. I'll be back soon as I can, ok?"

Chris nodded against Roy's shoulder, returning the hug as best he could with an IV in his hand. Roy kissed the top of his head. "You'll be ok," he repeated. "I love you."

"Love you too, dad."

Karen and Roy went to the door where they embraced.

"Be careful Roy, please," Karen whispered, eyes going over every feature of his face like she may not see it again. "I love you."

"I'll be as careful as I can, Kar, promise." He kissed her lips softly, sweetly, lingeringly. "I love you, too sweetheart."

At the station, he made one phone call home, to tell Jenny and the twins, to give them his love and promises to be careful, come home soon. He knew that these goodbyes he made might be his last, the possibility was there.

He just hoped that this wouldn't be the last time.


	14. Chapter 14

**Give All My Secrets Away**

**Black-Angel-001: so the last time this was updated was in april, and hasn't been touched since. that's partly because of a loss on what to write and then more because of family and what was happening there that all just carried over and built up. i apologize for not updating or at least giving y'all a note, but at the time it just wasn't a priority. now however, i have something! hope you enjoy**

**Give All My Secrets Away**

"_Don't you dare look out your window darling everything's on fire, the war outside our door keeps raging on_." -Taylor Swift ft The Civil Wars, '_Safe and Sound_'

There was a long running joke among firefighters, and the public, that firefighters were never going to hell because they would simply put out the fire there. Only the men (and some women, now. Times were chaning, for the better in this case) who wore the turnout gear shared a knowing look: they'd already fought the fires of hell on Earth, in the form of forest fires.

It was a pretty apt description, Roy thought as the engine crested a hill and he saw the flames and smoke licking up the green and black hillside for the first time. This wasn't his first fire, this actually made it his eigth in his entire time as a fireman. He heard one of the men from Palo Alto's Station 10 whistle and agreed quietly.

The fire was large, spreading out well over 20 acres of land owned privately and by the state. Neighborhoods had been evacuated and farmers and ranchers were still moving out their animals. The wind was pushing the flames and sparks up and over, threatening even more counties beyond the L.A. area.

A familiar humming buzz from overhead made Roy lean forward to watch a Boeing 747 flew over and made a 24,000 gallon drop of water spread out over the fire. Now at the bottom of the hill, Roy couldn't see the effect but hoped it was a good one. The Boeing banked left, and Roy assumed it was heading back to base for another fill up.

Engine 10 of Palo Alto pulled up to the command center, parked and the crew jumped out. The captain, Frank Myers, and Roy headed directly over to the chief who was directing the action. After giving one last order, Chief turned to them.

"It's not good," the chief said without preamble, already knowing what they were going to ask. "We've managed to control the fire in this area," he circled a finger over a pinned up map, "and here," he pointed to another area. "Reports indicate those should be out before the day is over. It's here that the trouble is. A wind is coming off the mountains which isn't helping. The weather is still dry with no rain at all in the forcast. At this point all we can do is try and prevent it from spreading and contain it to this area. Myers, you and your crew are going to be joining up with L.A. 8 and 119 on the west end." He pointed to the area where two red pins were up on the map. "Its residential, evacuated, and unfortunately most of the homes are already involved. You just have to help make sure it doesn't get farther."

Myers nodded and felt a pang for the families who would have nothing to return to, but pushed it aside for now. He had a job to do, and needed to focus on it. He clapped Roy on the shoulder and headed for his engine, calling to his men what the orders were and getting ready to head out.

"DeSoto, your engine is out right now over here on the south side," Chief pointed the area out, where there were three red pins and a blue one. "You'll be teaming up with Engine 20; they need a lineman." There wasn't an elaboration but Roy figured it meant a man was down for that company. He nodded. "They're here now getting water and some food; there's gear over there for you too. Get going and be careful."

"Right Chief." Roy jogged over to the large tent set up where men covered in smoke were either drinking water, eating a sandwich, or just taking a rest. Roy got his gear, turnout coat, pants, boots, helmet, and oxygen, and headed to where he could see the men of 20 eating. He snagged his own water and sandwhich, knowing it may be the last he has for a while, and headed over.

"Roy DeSoto reporting," he told the Captian, a young man by the name of Mark Riordan, who stood and shook his hand.

"Glad to have you with us, Roy. That's our engineer, Rick, and then we've got Steve, and Harry. You're taking over for Peter." His voice became slightly hushed. "He ended up with bad smoke inhalation."

Roy nodded sympathetically. "Sorry, hope he comes through."

Mark nodded and then there was no time for more talk; Engine 20 was called out and the men sprung into action, hoping this wouldn't be the last for any of them.


End file.
